One
by HotCoffee21
Summary: Ava Huxley is content with her seemingly perfect life before it turns on her. When her family turns their backs she is forced to face the world head on. Unknowingly rousing the interest of CEO and mystery man Braxton Sullivan, Ava's world is yet to see another dramatic change. Same basic story line as Fifty Shades, but heavily AU. Warning: Coarse Language and Graphic Sex.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As usual, I was rushing for the elevator. The gates for the underground parking closed at 7:30pm and it was exactly 7:24pm. Pushing my luck was a regular occurence, but this was close even for me. If I did not have my car on the road in six minutes, it was stuck in Sully Tower over the weekend. That would just be my luck, I muttered as I walked into the newly-opened elevator doors. I'm also not completely convinced I finished everything I needed to in the office, so I had shoved everything important in my purse just in case I thought of something over the weekend. Feeling the elevator slow at a level far above ground, my irritation grew. The time in the corner of my phone told me it was 7:26, leaving no hope of getting my car tonight.

"Perfect," I whispered to myself.

Sighing in defeat, I rested my head against the elevator wall to eyeball the woman walking aboard, only to notice a man out of the corner of my eye. He was flicking glances between his phone and myself, smirking all the while. Giving my best attempt at stealth, I tried to study him. The more I looked, the more truth came to my earlier statement. This man was perfect. Tall as the hills, with dark hair shooting out in all directions. An impeccably tailored black suit made the colour of his baby blue eyes all the more vivid. The only way I could fault him was the stupid smug smile playing on his lips. Surely he had the decency not to look so gleeful during my temporary misery.

With the ground floor approaching, I halted my studies and went about steeling myself. Either I hailed a cab, or called Nathan and Viv for a ride. Both had its pros and cons, but my aunt and uncle would undoubtedly be in the middle getting their eighteen month-old twins ready for bed, so it was going to have to be a cab. Hearing the ding signalling the arrival of our floor, I huffed as I pulled my purse further up my shoulder. I hadn't dressed to accommodate the winter chill that was waiting for me and was already feeling phantom shivers.

"The parking gates are still open, if that's what you're pouting about." Announced a smooth voice from behind. It sounded like silk resting on stone and caused all kinds of flutters.

Stopping my forward movement, I turned to him and crossed my arms.

"I am not pouting."

Eyebrows shot up in disbelief and eyes narrowed. A silent battle of wills broke out as we descended to the last stop. Nobody spoke, but accusations were blaring. I assumed he wanted an apology or some form of thanks, but I don't pout. Mr Eyes-Too-Blue-To-Be-Real was obviously used to having people cave – his entire demeanor reeked of it, and admittedly I could feel my resolve weakening. Hearing the god sent ding I had convinced myself was long gone, I all but threw myself out of the lift. Musing over how strange it was that a simple raised brown could have such a battering effect, I made a a bee-line for my car.

Sitting in relative safety, I scorned myself. If he hadn't told me the gates were open, I would be standing in frozen winds trying to snatch a cab right now. If anybody had seen my appalling manners, I would have received the lecture of a life time. Although he was quite rude about it. Pouting – I really don't pout – ever.

A car horn sounding reminded me that my exit was time sensitive, so starting the car up, I moved to the my security pass being cleared I waited to merge into the buzzing traffic flow. Minivans filled with little families and the business sedans of the working adults streamed past, oblivious to their metropolitan surroundings. Quite relief filled me and I finally took up a spot in the masses, heading home after one of the most stressful weeks of my career.

Getting home was traditionally a hectic occasion. The twins high-pitched squeals and the clatter of the kitchen was a comforting sound and it's absence was just as unwelcome as it had been all week. The overtime I had been clocking has been great for my job, but I was less than pleased with how it was effecting the rest of my life. Primarily how by the time I made it home, my ridiculously enthusiastic baby cousins were already in bed. Resigned to another lonely dinner, I plopped my belongings down on the marble kitchen island, and fished my warm dinner out of the oven. There was certainly worse ways to live.

Rinsing off my plate, I grabbed my bag and trudged up the stairs. Viv's interior design experience was evident in she and Uncle Nathan's home. It had the presence of a plantation home, the vibe of an old villa, but the appearance of a modern-day family home. Simply put, the place was timeless, just like the occupying family. Just like Mr Eyebrows from the tower and entirely unlike myself. A small smile broke out as a tiny giggle sounded behind the door to my room. Flicking on the light I tossed my bag and shoes the way I would any other day. Making a show of it, I threw myself onto the biggest undercover blob on my bed.

"Daddy!"

"Ava, you crush my daddy!" Cried Imogen, pulling at my arm. Nathan and Viv were chuckling at the response of their daughters, though Viv was cut short.

"You really should treat your things with more care, Avie." She tutted, carefully storing away my shoes.

Rolling my eyes, I lunged for Emelia, the quieter twin and began tickling. She was giggling through the pacifier in her mouth with her arms flailing. It was probably considered horrible, but Emelia was my secret favorite of the two. Her temperament was much calmer and often resulted in her taking the back seat to Imogen. The pair of them were gorgeous, clearly following after their father and myself. Dark hair and green eyes that had the grown up fawning over them instantly.

"They just weren't going to settle until you got home. They missed you." Nathan smiled.

**# # #**

The further Sunday progressed, the harder it became to quell my nerves. The meeting that had kept me past normal business hours for the past week was scheduled for 9.00am tomorrow. While I wasn't giving the presentation, many frustrating hours had gone into helping my boss, Tom, prepare and I had been granted access to sit in as a result. I knew what we were selling backwards and forwards, yet I knew very little of who we were pitching to. People in the office had supposedly heard whispers that Braxton Sullivan, the owner of the company I worked for, was going to be in attendance. That was easily dismissed. Tom had worked at SullTech for years and had never seen the man once. Probably because nobody actually knew what he looked like.

It would seem I was doomed to have no sleep. For what felt like hours the seconds would tick by, but when I rolled over next two hours had passed. The same blue eyes that had been haunting me all weekend were there when I closed my lids, keeping me up. I'd never seen a colour like that, lighter and brighter than the sky, but deeper than the ocean. Looking at them had been like watching a perfectly oiled motor run. Fleeting things running through them but moving on before I was able to recognize them.

Decidedly pissed at whatever game time was trying to play with me, I got up. It was 5.45am, so not too much earlier than I would normally get up. Something about getting up before 6am felt unnatural though – unknown territory. Creeping down the hall and stairs, I headed to the kitchen. Nathan kept double strength coffee pods in this kitchen somewhere and I was determined to find them.

"Looking for these?"

"Fuck," I exhaled in shock. "Nathan you scared the shit out of me."

He was leaning on the counter, smug and sleepy, with a couple of extra strength coffee pods balancing between his fingers. Shaking his head, he pulled out a couple of mugs and turned on the coffee machine. Following the basic morning ritual, I pulled out cereal bowls and milk. Being raised together meant Nathan and I acted more as siblings than uncle and niece, and ever since the birth of his girls he had taken on something of a paternal role. He had all but secured my job at SullTech, an impressive achievement considering I had no college backing or experience at the time. Nathan on the other hand, had excelled brilliantly at college and then quickly climbed the ranks of SullTech before moving on to work a little more closely with Mr. Sullivan himself.

Pouring our cereal, I spoke as casually as I could. "Hey Nate, whats Braxton Sullivan like?"

Trading cereal for coffee, we climbed on top of the kitchen island to eat breakfast, something that would get us in a world of trouble if Viv found out. He took a gulp of caffeine and a few mouthfuls of cereal before he finally answered.

"Mr. Sullivan is surprising. For all intents and purposes, the man's a genius. You know he's the same age as me and he's already made more than I ever will." He added at the end.

"Okay, but what does he look like?" I grumbled between bites.

Uncle Nathan, brother Nathan, and new-father Nathan didn't respond well to that particular question. All red in the face, he began spluttering about age differences so I dropped it. I wanted to be able to identify him at the meeting, but I didn't want a nuclear Nathan. I already had far too much on today. Giving him a teasing push, I bounced back up the stairs and left him to deal with the dishes. With the aid of double strength coffee, I was able to power through the shower and blow-dry process in record time and was trying to decide if I wanted to use the flat iron, or the curler today. Reading over the email Tom sent me last night, I decided to go with the flat iron. The term he used for dress code had been 'definition of professional'. With my hair sleeked back into a tight pony-tail and my makeup barely noticeable, it was time to dress.

"You leaving already, Ava?" Hollered Nate as I wandered down the stairs.

"Boss requested a triple shot. It's gonna be a long day." I sighed in response. At least after today it would be over with I repeated in my head.

Madness. It was the best way to describe the events of my morning leading up to the meeting. Within an hour, Tom had panicked about almost everything before calming down rapidly. The man had gone from 700 miles per hour to seemingly relax enough for a nap instantly, and I was feeling a little winded. My boss may have calmed down, but it felt as though his panic was continuing to writhe in my stomach. When he announced it was time to go to the meeting room, I really thought I was going to be sick.

The people Tom was about to pitch to, who I was assuming were executives of some form or another, were already seated. Walking nervously to my seat, I recognized a head of wild dark hair. He was sitting at the head of the table, looking out the window. Speeding up, I got to my seat before he took notice of the room. In my nervous state, I was pretty sure trying to concentrate on Tom would be all but impossible if I entered into another staring contest.

Blinds were closed, the projector fired up, and Tom was on his way. My panic flared when he ventured off a little, but he killed it. If I wasn't already, he would have sold me in the first five minutes. Everyone laughed when he joked and applauded when he finished. That is, everyone but the hottie at the end of the table. I had watched him because head of table would insinuate some kind of power, I reasoned, and not because he looked particularly dreamy in half shadow. It was during one of my prolonged glances that he spotted me. Catching me staring at him, he tilted his head to the side and raised his brows.

Ignoring him deliberately, I rushed to congratulate Tom and hopefully gain an early out. My boss had other plans and dragged me around with him as he made small talk with the room. Taking care to smile and invest myself in the conversations was futile. I could still feel the glances being thrown my way in the form of an electric current. Doing what I could to block that out too, I skated around the room. If you asked why it was so flustered, I had no answer. Something about that man just made me edgy, and I was more than happy to prolong the conversation. I exhausted every occupant of the meeting room before I accepted defeat and put on a brave smile.

"Mr Knight, a fantastic presentation." He crooned to Tom.

"I'm glad you liked it." Tom smiled. "This is Ava Huxley, my PA and mastermind. Ava, this is Braxton Sullivan."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

For near on three weeks I had thought about Braxton Sullivan. In my head we were on a first name basis, when in reality I hadn't seen nor heard of him since the pitch. Today we found out whether the proposal would be accepted. Everyone had very high hopes – Tom especially, but I was nursing a fear that maybe I had blown it. If I had used those awkward minutes of silence to discuss what we were selling instead of standing there like an idiot, we may have had a bigger shot. Sullivan probably thought we were all dimwitted mutes and was looking at how to fire all of us instead of thinking over what Tom had said.

Apparently I was alone in my thoughts though, because Tom was already talking about celebrating. Jumping the gun a little. We could still get an easy 'no'. I had been right about after the meeting and normality had returned. Once again I was home in time for dinner and actually able to spend time with my friends and family. Those friends I had neglected during the run up to the big pitch were back in full force, and very enthusiastic about the super hot Mr Sullivan.

The day was moving in slow motion, waiting for the call. Every buzz of the phone had everyone's attention and was beginning to cause frustration. It was shortly after morning break that the news broke. Hearing the phone, I ran with my coffee back to my desk.

"SullTech offices, Ava speaking."

"Hello, Ava. How are you?" The speed in which I recognized the voice was embarrassing.

"Hi, Mr Sullivan. I'm good. Yourself?" The entire office was watching with bated breath, and I sent out a thumbs up to confirm who was on the line.

"Fine, thanks." He snapped.

"I'll put you through to Tom, then."

Once the call was through, I joined my coworkers in anticipation. From my position, I was able to see into Tom's office and made no secret of my snooping. Unwritten rules dictated that as PA, it was my responsibility to do the dirty work, so I sent out appropriate signals when I noticed something. We were a close office. People rarely left and when someone new arrived they were quickly brought into the fold. That is why when Tom dropped the phone and I snapped my head to my monitor, everyone followed suit. We all knew the game, Tom included.

"You lot are horrible actors." He chuckled. "The proposal has been accepted. Go home, everyone. You deserve it."

Whoops erupted and high-fives were thrown around like there was no tomorrow. My relief was brought to a sudden halt, however, when Tom motioned me into his office. Dread spread through my belly and my legs felt like dead weights as I dragged myself behind him. God forbid Braxton Sullivan had said something to Tom. There wasn't much for him to say, but I'm sure a simple word would end my job immediately.

"Stop stressing, Ava. I just wanted to say thank you for all you did towards the presentation."

"I'm not fired?" I breathed. Oh thank fuck.

"Now why the hell would you think that?" He was genuinely shocked by my assumption.

"Just because... Well... I was afraid I may have offended Braxton Sullivan at the meeting." I rushed. Tom only laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"Ava, for as long as I'm employed, you are. And for the record, Mr Sullivan seemed very impressed with you."

Due to Tom declaring the afternoon an office holiday, I was home by lunch time. Sitting in the kitchen I took a look around. The place was eerily quiet and far to tidy, thanks to Viv's maid. I hadn't been home during a week day for nearly two years now and I was a little lost for what to do. With nobody else in it, the house was like an ocean. Selecting a piece of fruit from the designer bowl, I sprinted up the stairs, eager to be in comfortable confines. With an afternoon of freedom, more self motivated people may have actually done something. Not me. I gathered up my secret stash of snacks and climbed on my bed with my laptop and phone to prepare for a marathon of something completely irrelevant.

Car tires on the driveway woke me out of my mindless stupor. The sun peaking through the curtains meant it was far too early for Nate to be home, so I prepared myself for an afternoon with Viv. She was an intense believer in healthy eating, exercise, and discipline. I thoroughly enjoyed junk food and being lazy. I was a typical teenager when Nathan and Viv got together, and my slobbish ways had caused a decent amount of friction in the first year or so. Only seven years older than me, Nathan had taken me in at only twenty years old, just after the death of my grandpa and his dad. Being the only known family I had left meant he didn't have much choice, but he had said time and time again that it was a no-brainer.

Vivienne had moved in with Nathan a couple of years later. Honestly I had hated having to share Nathan. He was the only family I had and my paranoid teenage self had been convince Viv wanted to take him from me. She hadn't though, and I ended up enjoying having a female to look up to. Being raised by your grandpa and uncle/brother had been tragic, at least in my eyes, so a girl to be girly with was a welcome change.

From time to time we still clashed. Ever since she had the girls, she was more obsessed with dieting than she had ever been. We all suffered through the barely there meals with her, but as soon as she turned away Nate and I were scoffing cheeseburgers and feeding the girls up on potato chips and juice. Viv may be paranoid, but I wasn't, and I got shitty when I was hungry. Food aside, I was excited to share the news. Bounding down the stairs and locating them in the kitchen, I was struggling to not to explode.

"What are you doing here?" Viv snapped before I got the chance. I wasn't going to let her grumpy tone bring me down.

"The proposal was accepted so Tom gave us the afternoon off!" I squealed.

"That's fantastic news, sweetie. You should call Nathan and maybe we can go out to celebrate." She handed me the phone with a quick smile before she carried on what ever she was doing.

It was hardly the reaction I was hoping for, but it would have to do. She was right about Nathan though, he was thrilled and promised to make dinner reservations for tonight. The call ended and was followed by a text confirming a reservation for 6.00pm at one of Viv's approved restaurants. By my logic, there was about two hours left before we needed to leave. The girls were due for a nap and their mother was either busy or grumpy, so I headed back to my room.

A Viv approved restaurant was always considerably more prestigious than I would pick myself, so I was going to have to change. There was a special section of my closest reserved for leaving the house with my aunt, filled with clothes she had picked. It was certainly too late notice to call the babysitter which meant the girls would also be in attendance. In my opinion, taking kids meant you could get away with looking a little more laid back, but evidently I was wrong.

At 5.15, when I heard my named yelled up the stairs, I grabbed my purse and slid on some shoes. The plain white dress and blazer I had selected would have been fine to anybody else. But compared to Viv's little black cocktail dress and sky high heels, my ballet flats seemed incredibly less-than. Too late now, I guess. Picking Imogen and Emelia up, I headed out the door. God forbid Viv gets something on her dress. For the length of the drive, I was being cast disapproving glances and sitting in awkward silence. Personally I thought I looked fine for the occasion. Make up had been re-applied and an extra twenty minutes had been spent on creating pretty waves in my dark hair.

We arrived to see Nate waiting out front. Spotting the car, he met us a the valet and helped pull the twins from the car. Laughing about how ridiculous valet services were, we received a disgruntled snort from his wife. It was in times such as this I was reminded that my aunt came from old money. Nate and I had a humble background. Money was still a bit flashy to the both of us but Viv had given lectures on embracing it.

As we waited to be seated, Nathan bumped into a colleague. He gushed about why we were here but dropped his daughter's hand in his excitement. Instantly recognizing her freedom, Imogen took off.

"I got her."

Emelia giggling on my hip, we followed after her sister. Little legs meant she couldn't move particularly quickly, but the restaurant was crowded and she was able to duck under people instead of going around them.

"Imogen!"

I had lost sight of her, causing my stomach to drop. She can't have gone far. Her little 18 month-old legs would get tired. Nathan would kill me if I lost her. Actually murder me. Where could she be? Surely someone would have spotted a wild little girl running around. Unless someone took too much notice and _took_ _her_. Oh god no, she has to be here somewhere.

Relief filled me as I heard her high pitched giggle and I spotted her disrupting a booth a few feet away. Swooping her up on to my other hip, I felt myself breath properly.

"Imogen you scared the poop out of me." I whispered against her head.

"You should really take better care, Ava." Braxton fucking Sullivan. Of all the people. "I assume this is yours, then?"

"My cousin. I should get her back. Her parents will be getting worried."

Again, this man just made me uncomfortable. He had an aura around him, one that was certainly intriguing, but intimidating. Ridiculous how his loosened tie made him look all the more handsome. Turning away, I took a step before I noticed him walking besides me. In flat shoes, he was over half a foot taller than my 5.6" frame. Idly I wondered if this is what the twins felt like walking next to adults. Small, safe, and like the adult was entirely unnecessary.

"What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you all get back safely." He shrugged.

Patronizing bastard. Both girls were fastened securely to my hips with no chance of getting away. I was about to tell him thanks, but no thanks, when Nathan materialized in front of us. Reaching for his runaway daughter, he quietly chastised her for bolting like that.

"Mr Sullivan, I didn't realise you knew my niece." Nate exclaimed.

"Not as well as I'd like to." He whispered almost definitely to himself.

"We've met a few times now. You're lovely daughter visited my table." He restarted, this time addressing Nathan.

I was unable to follow the rest of the conversation, still hung up on his first statement. '_Not as well as I'd like to_'. What the hell did that mean? He departed, and Nathan and I joined Viv at the table. The evening was spent trying to throw myself into conversation, then stewing on Braxton's words. More conversation, more thinking. Rinse and repeat. Rude as it was, every time the table chatter wasn't directly linked to me, I tuned out. Only when I heard Viv tell Nathan that she needed to go away for a week for work did I fully rejoin my family.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Quick question: If the source material is sexually explicit, what are the rules regarding ratings on FanFiction? **

**Clearly everyone who is here has read it before, so am I allowed to post chapters of a similar nature, or is that in violation of the rating system?**

**Thanks a bunch, and I hope you like it :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Spill, please." She demanded as she flopped on my bed.

A short text exchange and Michaela had appeared in my bedroom, requesting ever inch of detail about Braxton Sullivan, yet again. Having been friends since Junior High, she was well past needing an invitation, or even knocking, when she came over. Nathan and Viv barely paid notice when she breezed past them anymore either. She was basically a permanent fixture now.

"I've already told you what was said, dick."

"Yes, but we need to go over body language and expressions and all of that." Michaela explained, dead serious.

We'd been through this many times. Every boy that was encountered more than twice required intensive Michaela analysis, and it was rare for someone to pass. With hair as light as mine was dark and pretty hazel eyes, it was normal for her to have a new boy to analyze every week. However, I hadn't had anyone she deemed research worthy pop up in a few years now and she was very excited. At first I thought her interest was due to it being Braxton, but as she spoke it was clear she was excited by the idea of me finding someone. I scoffed at the idea of me _finding_ Braxton Sullivan.

"He just poked fun at me loosing Imogen then talked to Nate." I shrugged.

I had convinced myself that the whispered words I heard as just been some kind of wish fulfilment, so didn't mention them. If that door even existed, it would be remaining firmly shut. The man had the power to ruin not just my career, but Nathans too. My resolve didn't change the facts though. Ever since meeting him in the elevator, Braxton had been tainting my thoughts. I was shamed to admit that every morning I thought about bumping into him while I got ready for work, hoping I would impress him. It had only been amplified with each meeting.

"I'm mad at you." Michaela announced with a dramatic sigh.

"What for?" I yelled, indignant.

"Because you fell off the grid for nearly two weeks, then you reappear with something as juicy as meeting Braxton bloody Sullivan and you wont let me have my fun!"

With no way to win this conversation, I resigned to my fate. "Fine, what did you want to know?"

From this point on, there was no going back. Michaela fired up my laptop and flung questions at me from all directions, leaving no stone unturned while she did the research. She asked about expression, demeanour, and how I felt around him. According to her Google search, I was almost exactly his type, with the exception of my eyes. My green was at odds with the blue-eyed woman Braxton was usually seen with. I also noted that almost every single one of them stood taller than me next to him. An insignificant detail, but it still felt like a hit.

Michaela was an exception digger. Within the hour I knew that not only did he own some, but all of the buildings in Sully tower as well as more scattered around the country. The man was single handedly running the world, it seemed. His company, Sullivan Incorporated, had divisions scattered as far as Australia. As far as his personal life went, there was next to nothing except pictures.

Websites were dedicated to pictures of him, with separate pages holding photographs of him formally, casual, in business, and my personal favorite, exercising. My friend and I shared a low whistle as a picture of topless Braxton filled the screen. Both of us were struggling to string together a sentence as we stared with open mouths. Abs. Abs, muscles, and the broadest shoulders I had ever seen. In the picture, he was running. In my mind, I pictures him getting naked and sweaty for an entirely different reason.

"PASS!" Michaela declared giggling and fanning herself with a hand.

"You stayin' or what?" I tossed back as I fished out pajamas.

"You got ice cream?" She responded, opening an overnight bag I hadn't seen her carry in. I guess that's a yes.

Because Viv would almost definitely be in bed, we creeped down the hall. Michaela had asked rhetorically, but yes. There was a secret stash of chocolate ice cream in the garage freezer and now I wanted it. Dessert had been skipped, as was normal, because my aunt was watching her figure. Spying Nathan watching ESPN, my friend panicked, but uncle knew. Some habits were too hard to break, and ice cream after bed time was certainly one of them.

When we woke the next morning, there were two little monsters on the end of my bed. The big monster was standing in my door way, already laughing. Waking me up had lost it's fun long ago, but Michaela was a new toy. Slowly making their way up the bed, they began poking and prodding my friend. As the grumbles started, Nathan began laughing in earnest and I eventually joined him.

"I hate them." Michaela murmured, face shoved into the pillow.

Deciding it was probably best to leave the lions den now, I dragged the little people off the bed. Viv was already in the kitchen, making some kind of health shake. She had given up coffee once she got pregnant, preferring to judge my intake instead. As far as she was aware, I was the only person that used the Keurig. Nathan was a closet coffee addict these days. While the coffee brewed, I fired up the stove. Thanks to my charming nieces, Michaela was going to require extra greasing this morning.

"You know eggs are link to high cholesterol, right?" Viv sneered.

Ignoring her, I pulled out bacon and sausage as well. Maybe I'd die of heart disease, but no bitch is keeping me from beautiful breakfast meats. It took fifteen minutes for the smell to travel upstairs, then Nathan and Michaela were patiently sitting at the island while I served up. Even Emelia had poked her little head around to see what was going on.

"Don't you dare feed my babies that shit, Nathan!" Viv yelled.

She was probably in her home gym, working off the barely existant breakfast before it could settle long enough for her body to notice it. Laughing, we watched the kids pull out the puppy eyes and their dad cave.

"I need to do some shopping today Ava. And by I, I mean we." Michaela proclaimed.

Shopping was not my forte, but after ditching for nearly two weeks, I supposed I owed it to my friend to go with her. Nodding, I rinsed my plate and followed her back upstairs. My guilt had me giving in, so when she decided that she would pick my outfit and do my hair, I went without fuss. One of Michaela's favorite things was playing grown up barbies and every ensemble required a twirl and dance.

Eventually she decided, and I was dressed in a black skirt and a long sleeved lace top. She had picked a flowing blue dress for herself. Another statement in her personal vendetta against pants, no doubt. Pushing me to sit on the floor, she pulled out the hot tools and set to curling my hair. It was a boring process, but I didn't complain least she burnt my head.

After what felt like eons, we were ready and the shopping began. For hours we browsed every store we passed. Boutiques to department stores, shoes to handbags, we looked at it all. I put on a brave smile, but shopping stressed me out. Too many people and too many options made my head whirl. Bitchy sales assistants made my skin itch. Even the other customers were bitchy when you got to certain stores. The world of fashion was just too judgemental for me.

Michaela finally found what she didn't know she was looking for in the form of a new dress. It wasn't dissimilar to the one she had on if I were honest. Fitted to the waist then frilly to mid thigh. The only real difference was colour and the scooping back line. She looked stunning, as she always did.

Satisfied with her purchase, we were finally allowed to go home. Because she had a commitment tomorrow morning, Michaela was just going to drop me off and leave, but not before making me promise repeatedly that I would not be disappearing for work again. It wasn't late when I got home, not even dinner time. The absence of any sign of life when I opened the door set me on edge. As far as I knew, nobody had any plans today and it was nap time.

"Hello?"

Silence followed. Something didn't feel right.

"Nate? Viv?"

Cautiously I made my way to the living room, looking for signs of life. The TV was on, but muted and there were glasses on the coffee table. Plush couch cushions had been piled against the suede recliner. Everything indicated there was someone home, or they had only just left. I regretted not paying mind to what cars were here.

"There she is, the little whore." Viv sounded slightly drunk.

Her husband was rushing behind her, looking frantic. He was tugging on her arm, trying to convince her to stop.

"No, Nathan. I want her out." She was slurring her words.

"Out? What did I do? What's going on Nate?" The waves of panic were beginning to crush my chest. Sure Viv had been a little odd lately, but it wasn't uncommon for her to go through weird spells so I hadn't put too much thought into it.

"Oh go on, cry to Nathan like you always do."

"That's enough, Vivenne."

Her glazed eyes were set on me, and I was sure she hadn't even heard Nathan. A contorted expression marred her features and a slither of fear shot up my spine.

"Listen here you good for nothing priss. Time is up, you're out. I've been putting up with you for years. Watching you doe-eye my husband into getting what you want, but not anymore. This morning was the last straw."

"This morning? What are you talking about, Viv?"

"I see you!" She screeched. "I see you watching him. But you can't have him, he's mine!"

"Who?" I demanded. What the fuck is she talking about.

"Nathan! You fucked up little shit. I see you drooling over him and smiling at him all the time like the twisted bitch you are and I -"

"VIVENNE!" Nathan bellowed. He looked livid, but shots had been fired now.

"Nate is my uncle, you washed up hag. I knew you were insecure, but apparently you're entirely fucking crazy too!"

"I wanted her out of my house."

"Viv, Ava is my niece and I promised my dad I would look after her." My uncle implored.

"It's her or me and the girls, Nathan." She threaten.

"Don't worry about it, Nate. I'll go." I said defeated.

Marching to my room I slammed the door. I felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of waking the twins, but I was too pissed to waste much time on it. Yanking my suitcase and any bags I could find open, I began throwing everything I touched in them. Nearly all of my clothes fit into the large suitcase, leaving me with three bags for everything else. Filling two of them with makeup and technology and everything else that would be costly to replace, I left one empty.

In that bag I gently put in all my framed photos and sentimental objects. Very little was left over, making the room a shell of the home I used to know. It was depressing that everything I owned could fit into a few bags. At least I could get out of here quicker. Sneaking out of my room, I listened for a sign of what was happening down stairs. My uncle was still arguing with Viv so I set my bags down quietly.

Tip toeing across the landing, I reached my cousins room. Opening the door, both of them were still asleep and completely ignorant to what was happening. In an ideal world, this would be happening on good terms and we could have our heartfelt goodbye. Knowing that wasn't the case, I blew them kisses. Tears were starting to form behind my eyes, but it was too soon for that. I still needed to get past their god-awful mother.

Clinging to my anger, I bolted for the door. Vivenne had cleared out, by choice or force I didn't know, but I was grateful either way. Once I had stored everything in the backseat, I took an easy breath. Maybe I would be able to get away with an easy exit.

"Ava." Called my uncle, jogging down the stairs.

He pulled me in for a bear hug and the tears I had stemmed began to flow. Nathan had been parent and sibling to me for my whole life. Now I was alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Getting ready for dinner on Friday, I was still struggling to believe what had happened. For the entire week I had clung to my phone, waiting for Nathan to call and say 'jokes on you' so I could go home. He hadn't. In fact there had been no contact whatsoever, an anomaly for my very close family. Realisation that I may no longer have a family was beginning to weigh heavy on my heart but I refused to break down just yet. Not until I had concrete reason to believe my uncle had really turned his back on me.

Initially I had gone to Michaela's, where I stayed on the Saturday night, but it could only be temporary. She had a roommate, one I didn't see eye to eye with, so I had gone to the next best thing. Michaela had met Stevie in college. Everyone had thought a relationship was going to bloom, but it never did. They became close friends and eventually Stevie and I grew into friends as well. It was his spare room that currently held me and my belongings. When I had turned up yesterday morning, he hadn't asked questions. He just held open his arms and said I was welcome for as long as I needed.

The friendship between Stevie and I was easy. From the moment we meant it just clicked. There was never any need to wonder if there was anything beyond friendship, because it was well established there was never going to be. Both of us are straight. Neither of us were interested. Really it was quite simple and would continue to be so long as I was careful around his male friends.

It hadn't taken long for my office to discover I had been kicked out. When they heard, sympathy was doled out in batches and everyone tread on egg shells. The close relationship between my family and I had never been a secret. Often Viv would stop in with the girls on her way to see Nathan or to go get lunch. Every member of the team had heard the tale of Nathan Huxley working his way up the Sullivan ladder.

The two girls who worked on reception, Lisa and Jone, had made it their personal responsibility to keep my blues at bay. I would receive funny emails and lunch invitations from them daily. Tom had been much the same. Taking me with him to all his work commitments even when I wasn't needed. In trying to keep up with all my babysitters, I had double booked myself this morning. Lucky for me, Lisa and Jone had no problem doubling with Stevie and I, and lunch had gone well.

A little too well. It was why I was now cursing the mirror as I attempted to apply liquid eyeliner. My friends had all decreed that tonight I needed to get out of the house. More specifically that clubbing would solve my problems. No amount of bitching and whining was getting me out of this, they had said, so I was left to suck it up. Stevie had apparently called Michaela. Arriving home I had been bombarded by my highly excited best friend, shrieking that she had already picked the perfect outfit for me and set it on my bed.

One day she and I were going to have to have a discussion over her definition of 'outfit'. I wasn't convinced what she organized had enough fabric to constitute clothing. The dress boasted impressive cut out sections virtually everywhere. Flat out refusing, I chose to dress myself. San Francisco was cool at the best of times and if I was being forced out, I wanted to be somewhat comfortable.

Compared to the other girls my black jeans and leather jacket made me appear the literal black sheep. Michaela had feared I wouldn't be allowed in, so my otherwise casual outfit had been blinged out with impressive statement jewellery and shoes.

"What do you want to drink?" Stevie yelled at us over the thumping bass.

The club itself was divided into two sections. The first section was elevated and contained the bar and seating areas. All the walls were bare except one, which had projections of dancers and music videos playing in tune with the music. The lower area housed the dance floor. Smoke machines blew out plums of white cloud while lights lasered and danced along with the occupants.

A few drinks later, we hit the dance floor. My clubbing inexperience was evident as I danced next to my friends. They were all hips and legs, with their arms raised for the first while. Soon enough Michaela was dancing with an attractive stranger and Lisa had her arms snaked around Stevie's neck. Jone, being in a happily committed relationship, stuck with me. We were having a ball, dancing like idiots. There wasn't a chance any of the men in the establishment found what we were doing sexy, but we didn't care.

During our perfect synchronization of the pumpkin patch, a line of surly girls barreled past. Dressed in outfits so tiny it was impossible to be certain they weren't just wearing underwear. Pushing past us, they literally pushed me. I was certain I was about to fall flat on my ass when a pair of hands snaked out and caught my arms. In the smokey haze, questionable lighting, and my slightly inebriated state, I was struggling to make out his face. It wasn't until he spoke in my ear that the chills of recognition shot down my spin and warmed my lower belly.

"You should really take better care, Ava." He whispered for a second time.

"Mr Sullivan. Hi."

I sounded embarrassingly breathy when I spoke. It was impossible not to. The blazer he was wearing over his white dress shirt emphasised the width of his shoulders, making it feel like he was everywhere. The sensation made me nervous – among other things. In heels I only had to crane my neck a little to see his face and instantly regret it. The manic pattern of the lights reflected in his eyes, changing their colours and giving them a wild edge.

It could easily be the alcohol mixing with the atmosphere, but I suddenly felt really overwhelmed.

"I need some air." I told him, reaching up to his ear.

Locating my friends again, I leaned in to tell Jone where I was going and asked her to pass it on. She offered to come with me, but with every sound causing thunder in my skull I was eager for a moment alone. Moving through the crowd, I received an excited thumbs up from Michaela. Someone was getting lucky tonight.

Quickly as I could I found a seat in the courtyard area. The space was a designated "smokers area", a requirement if you didn't allow people to enter twice. Wrapping my arms around my knees was challenging with hells, but I managed. With closed eyes I rested my forehead on my knees and concentrated on taking deep breaths.

"Are you alright?" There was no need to look up to know it was Braxton. I thought he stayed inside when I left.

"I'm not feeling too good, but I'll be fine."

"Here. Drink." He said, placing a water bottle next to me.

Crossing my legs, I took a sip. It was a clear night and the stars were clear in the sky. The winds that normally annoyed me were blowing the wisps of my hair and bringing me a little closer to human. Bass was still beating against the building but sound like more of a persistent hum than a banging now that I was outside. Braxton was still hovering over me with glaring eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you're alright. Finish that bottle." He commanded

"If you say so."

Tipping my head back, I did what I was told and gulped down the water. For a moment the cool liquid felt wonderful. Unfortunately the alcohol revolted against it and my stomach was in uproar. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I flung myself from the seat to the garden. Vomitting was something I actively avoided. No chicken or fish from unknown food outlets, daily vitamins to keep my immune system up. As the contents of my stomach poured out of my mouth tears stung my eyes and Braxton rubbed soft circles on my back.

"Go away." I choked out between bursts.

He simply chuckled and continued with his circles. When I finally stopped, I was exhausted. My entire body was shuddering. Braxton handed me a napkin and I smiled a thanks. Wiping my face, I notice the room multiply. Shaking my head and blinking, I did my best to rectify my vision.

"I think I'm okay." Was the kiss of death as my knees hit the ground.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Hey guys, I'm really interested to hear any feedback - constructive or otherwise. Hope you're enjoying it :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

There is a freight train in my brain, I'm certain. That, or Satan himself is knocking on my frontal lobe. Not ready to open my eyes, I survey my body instead. Two feet, two legs, two hands, two arms. The pounding sounding in my head has already alerted me to its presense, so clearly I wasn't beheaded either. With a hefty sigh, I rubbed my temples and swung my legs of the bed. I had no pants on, which shocked me into opening my eyes. Instant regret mixed with panic. This room, that was distinctly not mine, was far too bright. For a few minutes I juggled between crawling back under the soft covers, finding my pants and making a break for it, or getting a glass of water. In the end bed won, as it usually did. Cuddled up with a pillow I pulled the comforter over my head and decided I'd try round two with the sun in a few hours.

I never got fully back to sleep. Instead I lay in the delightfully large bed in a dozing state. Minutes of alertness followed spaces of floating. A movie of myself played through my mind. Dancing at the club. Being pushed into Braxton. Going outside. Vomitting in front of Braxton. Then nothing. Oh god.. Did that mean? Am I in Braxton Sullivan's bed? If we had sex, did I just violate the non-fraternization policy at SullTech? Last night I was a virgin. From what I had heard from every other normal female I'd ever spoken with, loosing your virginity hurt. So if I had sex, my vagina would be aching, which it wasn't. Blowing out a deep breath and I forced myself to relax.

Eventually a knock sounded from outside the room. Much more interested in gathering enough sleep, I ignored it. There was a few moments of silence, but my sleep was brought to a halt when I heard a glass and felt a dip in the bed.

"I know you're awake." He said wryly. Well, that dashed any hope that I wasn't in Mr Sullivan's bed.

"No I'm not." I mumbled. My estimations told me it was still daylight – too early.

"Come. Breakfast is ready."

"No food." The concept of food was making my stomach flip. However, it was nothing compared to what happened to it next.

"You will eat." He commanded. His voice was like a shard of ice tearing into my warm haven from the sun. I would have been within my rights to snap back and tell him I am a grown woman and if I don't want to eat then I wont. But I didn't. I couldn't come up with an exact way to describe why, but something in me wanted – _needed_ to do what he said. Maybe I'm still drunk.

Peaking out of the blanket, I squinted in his general direction. My eyes were having serious trouble adjusting to the brightness so he looked more like a pretty blur than his usual perfect self. Through the haze I could see he was wearing grey sweats and a white singlet. As my eyes accommodated the sunrays, I was able to see the sweat glistening in his hair, making it almost black. Damn, my toes curled involuntarily, just when I thought he couldn't possibly get any better looking.

"Can I shower first? Or maybe have some pants?" It took two attempts to get the sentence out. Partially to the killer case of paste-mouth I had going on, partly due to after effects of his little out break.

"The shower is through that door," He pointed to the door on the right. Following his finely sculpted arm, I took proper notice of the room. It was beautiful. The walls such a light shade of blue they were almost white, with cream carpet. The bed was centered, with the door he had entered through on the opposite side to me. Windows lined one of the walls, giving a perfect view of Golden Gate Bridge and the bay around it. Holy shit, it's perfect.

"There will be a robe in there for you to use until your clothes are clean."

"Thanks." I mumbled, crawling over the bed in the direction he had given me. After mentioning it, a shower was all I wanted in the world. I moved as quickly as my protesting limbs would allow and shut the door behind me. The huge bathroom boasted a large jacuzzi tub, but I only had eyes for the shower. Flipping it on, I set to undressing. My throbbing brain was taking a little longer to send commands to the rest of my body, but we got there in the end.

Under the soothing steam of the shower, coherency began to return. In the current situation, I had serious fish to fry. Probably the most pressing matter was location. I knew who, but not the exact where. The view had been from such a height that there was no way to accurately pin point a district. Michaela and Stevie wouldn't be freaking out yet, but if I didn't text them soon they would be. The scariest question was to be saved for last – had last night put my job on the rocks?

For the first time since last Saturday, I was feeling some of the fragility that had been expected of me. I was entirely sure that my career being at risk was more than I could handle right now. Using the strengthening heat of the shower, I dug deep. I may have lost a significant amount of my dignity last night, but I wasn't giving up the rest by breaking down in front of Braxton Sullivan. At this point I had probably used more of the hot water than was decent, so I begrudgingly shut it off.

Unless I wanted to reuse yesterdays panties, I was going to have to go full commando underneath the fluffy bath robe. Hearing the door creak, I tightened my hold on the robe. Braxton hung from the door knob and surveyed his bathroom. The amount of steam I had created was impressive.

"Come and eat." He instructed with his hand out stretched. Holding Braxton Sullivan's hand? Don't mind if I do. Latching on, I let him lead me out of the cocoon of steam into his living area.

The huge area was completely open plan. If the sheer size of any room could be compared to an ocean, it was this one. Washes of blue against the white walls added the colour while the accents of black created definition. This room also had a wall consisting solely of windows over looking the bay. Between the height and surroundings, it felt like you were in the clouds.

"It's beautiful." I awed, sitting at the breakfast island. Braxton was filling plates by the oven, the gleam of the white marble reflecting him in stunning clarity.

Smirking, he sat our plates down. They were overflowing with scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, and sliced fruit. Just looking at them made me a little nauseous.

"You don't expect me to eat all of this, do you?" There was no chance. Getting down the fruit was going to be a push – maybe some eggs. But my stomach was protesting the sight of the bacon.

"You will try." As he spoke, his voice took on the same authoritative tone he had used in the room.

Purposefully sulky, I picked at the apple and banana on my plate. What the hell was his problem this morning? My being here could be annoying him. But then he was the one who brought me here. He didn't have to bring me here, Stevie's place wasn't far from the club. A hopeful part of me, one I often squashed, whispered that maybe he wanted me at his home.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"You passed out. Was I supposed to leave you?" He defended. Pushing his plate away, he turned his entire body so he was facing me. The more time and attention I paid, the stronger my confusion became. Braxton Sullivan was a living contradiction. Body said he was interested. Face gave the impression he couldn't care less.

"Where I'm staying isn't far from the club. You easily could have dropped me home." I interjected, before rushing to correct myself. "Not that I'm ungrateful."

"You mean that boys house." He spat. The condescension in his tone immediately made me defensive.

"Stevie is a good person and a great friend."

"Ohh," He crooned. "And where was he when you were chucking your drink?"

I didn't have an answer for that. Stevie had been inside dancing, but admitting that felt like betrayal. He had no way of predicting I was going to be sick.

"How much did you drink?" Braxton demanded. This morning he had taken on a very demanding persona, actually. Commanding and impatient.

"Not much. I just rarely drink." I reasoned. Why am I reasoning with him? How much I drink and where I live is none of his business! Where is my purse?"

"Your bag is in my room." The question had faded. As soon as he told me where, I was on my way to collect my belongings. If I rung Michaela she would bring my clothes and pick me up. Barely caring that I had been followed, I dug through the oversized bag for my cell phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"A ride."

"I will take you home."

"I'd rather go now, thanks."

Locating Michaela in my contacts took no time but as I was pushing the button to call, my phone disappeared. Swirling around I found it in the palm of Braxton's hand. He was leaning against the wall, not unlike when I first saw him, with his brows raised.

"What are you doing?"

As I spoke, something in his eyes changed. They took on a hard edge that was shadowed by determination. The resolve etched on his face stirred something new in me, turning my insides to liquid. Standing up right, he placed my phone on the dresser. Every move he made was calculated, so when he began towards me I gulped.

"Do I make you nervous, Ava?" He taunted, slowly walking towards me. All I could do was nod, untrusting of my voice. Reaching me, he walked in deliberate circles. Holding my breath, I waited for his next move.

"Good. You're clothes are back. Get dressed."

Surely if he snipped any harder it would become a bark. And he did it so frequently, his barks would have him sounding like a dog. Laughing to myself, I dove into the canvas bag on the bed. My jeans and jacket were in there, clean and fresh for a new day, plus my shoes were strewn next to the bed. Braxton reappeared next to me with a shopping bag holding fresh underwear and a tee shirt. Thanking him, I rushed to the bathroom to change.

When I returned to the living area, dressed and slight more presentable, he was on the phone. Rattling off commands to some other poor sod until he noticed me again. Evidently he had changed and showered at some point himself, now wearing another dark suit. My best guess was he was going into work, but I was sure Sullivan tower was closed over the weekend. Owners perks, I suppose.

Following him to the lift, we descended in silence. Quite possibly the loudest silence possible. Tension was swelling off him at such a rate I was starting to worry he could be nuclear. The silence was imprisoning though, so I just stood quietly next to him. Then sat quietly in the SUV that some stranger was driving. For a little while I hummed along with the radio, but stopped once it caught Braxton's attention.

Pulling up at the apartment building I was residing in, the driver hoped out. Assuming he was going to open my door, I waited patiently. God forbid I got him in trouble with Mr Time Bomb. The squash part of me, the part that was beginning to get louder and louder, was screaming that I had put the morning to waste. He had showed a different side of himself this morning and it had done nothing to dispel the infatuation I had denied. If anything, I was already trying to figure out how to see him again.

"Thanks for everything." I stuttered out, disappointed.

"Until next time, Miss Huxley."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Hey all. Sorry this took so long. Writer's block and what not.**

**I'm struggling with it a fair bit, so anyone interested in lending a helping hand and tossing some ideas back and forth would be much appreciated.**

**Hope you enjoyed it :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

At work on Monday, two things were distinctly different. Lisa was asking all kinds of questions about Stevie. The boy had apparently made an impression on my receptionist friend and she was all but smitten. As soon as the elevator had opened, she pounced. It took a twenty-minute run-down of all things Stevie and multiple promises to talk to him before I was allowed to go to my desk. The second thing was my painfully alert state. My ears were sonar detectors, scanning the room for any mention of Braxton. It should've been embarrassing, but I was past that now. As long as nobody knew about it, I was content to carry on with my creepy ways. I had been secretly hoping that I would bump into him again but the longer the day went on, the more certain I was that I wouldn't.

In and of itself, the day was horrific. News of our secured proposal had hit the technology media and the phones were ringing constantly. They all wanted an interview with Tom, who was swamped in meetings. Once they finally realized I was being truthful about Tom's unavailability, they tried on me. unfortunately for them, my title ended in an 'A' not a 'R', and I had no clue what I was and wasn't allowed to say. Every phone call ended with me jotting down their name and contact details, saying we'd get back to them if possible. By the time the calls died down, it was home time. Well, for everybody else. I still had a stack of filing to clear, emails to respond to, and meetings to schedule among other things before I could leave. I was in for a long night.

The rest of the office cleared out while I read through the days memos. It wasn't uncommon for me to forget that SullTech was bigger than just this office. The entire floor consisted of different departments, all a part of the same company. Once a concept was ready for development, it was sent to us. Then the ridiculously clever people scattered here would put it through the paces and decide if it was any good. Tom was head of this department and supervising manager for the rest of them. My role as his PA meant it was my job to keep him organized. Gathering up unimportant memos and other files to be stored away I turned to the cabinets behind my desk.

"Ava what are you still doing here?" Condemned Tom by way of greeting.

"Hey Boss. The phones were going nuts." I explained, still filing.

"News got out, did it?"

"Yip. Theres a list of people who called on your desk. Including your sister, who flys in on Friday."

"Shit. I thought that was next week? I have a meeting with -"

"Parker Daniels. I know. I rung today and their happy to push back till Monday lunch. So I'll have to move your 1 o'clock appointment to 3, but that should be fine." The end of my sentence dropped when I realized Tom was not alone. The secret hope I had lost during the day came back in full force as I laid eyes on Braxton yet again. Once again I was floored by his piercing blue eyes.

"What would I do without you?" Tom said, voice filled with pride. "I've got a few things I need to do, but I think I'm gonna get something to eat. Anything in mind?"

Flashes of Saturday morning returned to me. Braxton's little tantrum about eating weaved through my memories. The expectant look on his face told me he remembered it too, clearly waiting for me to place some kind of food order.

"I'd kill for some Butter Chicken." I said. Half statement, half question.

I was rewarded with my first Braxton smile. Sure, I'd seen a hint of one behind all his smirks, but never a full-fledged smile. His eyes were twinkling with something secret, boring into mine. It was breath-taking. Literally. I had to remind myself to breathe. Both men receded from the office, and I collapsed in my seat. Hell, if that's what a smile could do to me, what would a kiss do? A caress. A...

"Did you want anything to drink, Ava?" Called Tom.

"Just a coke, thanks." I replied, shaking my head.

Where the hell did that train of thought come from? Berating myself, I woke up my computer to check emails and do some scheduling. It was a more involved process than one may think and quickly took my mind off the previous focus. Twelve last-minute meeting requests. How bloody ridiculous. While it was often stressful, I had been assured that the mark of a good Personal Assistant was the ability to squeeze in as many bookings as possible without leaving your Boss whiplashed.

I was barely halfway through my task when I heard the ping of the elevator. There was no way Tom was back so soon. Cautiously standing to my feet, I scanned the room for an alternate exit if I needed it. That was unlikely, you needed a security pass to use the lift, but crazy came in all forms. I stepped around my desk slowly, waiting to see who was going to be. Seconds ticked by, but there was nothing.

Then Braxton stormed through the doors. Air gushed out of my lungs in relief, only to be pulled back in. He looked mad. The definition of fucked off. And he was stomping towards me at an alarming rate.

"Are you alright?" I asked, panicked.

He didn't answer, instead wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging my mouth to his. Before I could realize it, he was kissing me and I was kissing him back. The moisture from my lip balm aiding our lips gliding against each other. My arms took on a life of their own, reaching for his back and hair, but they were obstructed. Large hands captured my wrists and pinned them to my lower back, pushing me closer to him in the process. It was enough to nearly knock the wind out of me, and I opened my mouth for air.

He smelt strong, natural. Like an ancient forest, tinged with the scent of blooming flowers. His tongue had a salty edge, but was oh so sweet. It stormed my mouth, knowing exactly what do to, gentle flicks and licks sending shivers down my spin. He held me like this, pressed against him during the most passionate kiss I had ever experienced, until the elevator dinged again.

For the second time, I was pissed about a traveller. Braxton didn't seem bothered. Letting me go, he wiped his lips of my balm. Pushing a loose hair away from my face, this thumb cleaned the area around my mouth. Not leaning into his hand cause a physical ache to spread through my body.

"Mr Sullivan, you're back. Did I forget something?" Tom gasped, terrified by the very notion.

"No, Tom. I did. Ava helped me with it, though." He replied, a lazy smile breaking across his face. Swoon. I received a beaming smile from my boss in silent thank you. You're very welcome.

"It was my pleasure, Mr Sullivan." I said with ill hidden amusement.

"Come eat, kiddo. You work too hard." Tom said, carrying a bag into his office.

Turning back to Braxton, I didn't know what to expect. Should I even have expectations? What ever they were, he simply gave my hand a small squeeze before walking out of the room. I was left reeling over my dinner with Tom and the rest of the night. The food was delicious, and I scoffed it down. The conversation was good, we went over all the major parts of the week. Even as I was finishing up for the night, checking my email a final time, my thoughts were still on the kiss. It had burnt itself into flesh memory. Every time I put something to my mouth or touched my check, it would fly back to the forefront of my mind. With a dejected sigh, I scrolled through my inbox looking for anything that couldn't hold overnight. To my surprise, it pinged with new mail.

* * *

**From:** Braxton Sullivan

**Date:** November 3, 2011 21:13

**To:** Ava Huxley

**Subject:** All work, no play

Ava,

Why are you still in the office? Tom left over an hour ago.

Braxton Sullivan

CEO, Sullivan Incorporated.

* * *

**From:** Ava Huxley

**Date:** November 3, 2011 21:17

**To:** Braxton Sullivan

**Subject:** All work, no play

Mr Sullivan,

We really didn't get much done today with the phones ringing. I'm just making sure we're going to be able to cope tomorrow. I don't know that it's particularly wise to tell that to the owner of the company, though. Tom had dogs to feed.

I prefer "work hard, play hard".

Ava Huxley

PA to Inter-Departmental Head, Tom Knight

Sullivan Technology Inc.

* * *

**From:** Braxton Sullivan

**Date:** November 3, 2011 21:23

**To:** Ava Huxley

**Subject:** All work, no play

Ava,

I'm always interested to hear about my companies, falling behind or not.

I also enjoy playing hard.

Braxton Sullivan

CEO, Sullivan Incorporated.

* * *

**From:** Ava Huxley

**Date:** November 3, 2011 21:25

**To:** Braxton Sullivan

**Subject:** All work, no play

We are so _NOT_ falling behind.

Ava Huxley

PA to Inter-Departmental Head, Tom Knight

Sullivan Technology Inc.

* * *

**From:** Braxton Sullivan

**Date:** November 3, 2011 21:28

**To:** Ava Huxley

**Subject:** All work, no play

Go home.

Braxton Sullivan

CEO, Sullivan Incorporated.

* * *

Something of an irritated giggle escaped as I shut down my computer. Being told what to do didn't sit completely well with me, but in his own way, it's sweet. Wandering around the office, I checked all the computers and made sure Tom's office was locked before I started on the lights. The first few times I stayed late, being here alone scared me. Now I knew what floorboards to dodge.

There was no chance of getting my car tonight. Getting a taxi was easy enough now rush hour had long passed, so I was home pretty quickly anyway. Stevie was half dead on the sofa, having waited for me to get home. After walking in the door he didn't bother speaking, just stumbled off to bed. I was ready to do the same, but a shower was crucial. The hot water was soothing, lulling my already tired limbs into a jelly like state. I couldn't be bothered drying my hair tonight even though I knew I would regret it in the morning. Not caring, I climbed into bed and let exhaustion have it's way with me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The buzz of my phone dragged me out of sleep. Grabbing it, I answered with an incoherent gurgle.

"Ava? Are you alright? It's Tom." Confusion spread through me. Shooting a glance at my alarm clock, I realized it was dead. Oh no!

"Am I late? Fuck! Sorry Tom, my alarm didn't go off!" I pleaded, throwing myself of the bed. Tom chuckled down the line.

"It's alright, kiddo. I wouldn't have called, but Braxton Sullivan is here for you." My boss quipped, curiosity echoing. Before I could answer, the phone rattled signally an exchange of hands. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself.

"Miss Huxley. Did you sleep well?"

"You want to know how I slept?" I stammered.

"It wasn't my original intent, but it would seem I woke you." He said with an air of damnation. Truth be told, I was pissed at myself. Until today, I had never arrived late to work once. Ready to fix my mistake, I got to the point.

"What can I do for you, Mr Sullivan?"

"Hmm, a loaded question," he drawled. "But for now accompanying me to dinner will suffice."

"Dinner?" I repeated. Wha... He wanted to go to dinner? Like a date? "Are you asking me out?" Immediately after saying it, a hand covered my face and embarrassment set in. I swear sometimes my brain to mouth filter abandoned me.

"No, Ava. I don't _go out._ Not the way you're thinking, anyway."

I was sold. If for no other reason then to find out what that meant. His cryptic response had piqued my curiosity and it wasn't going anywhere. Hanging up, I rushed to get dressed. It stalled my progress considerably. What ever I chose had to be suitable for a day of work, and then dinner. With a pang I remembered how Viv always helped me in these situations, but quickly stored it away. I hadn't seen or heard from Viv or Nathan since she lost her shit at me. Not a single phone call, text, or email. Nothing from the people who had all but raised me. A deep breath later, I settled on a plain black dress. Michaela had always said _"when in doubt, go black and go classic"_. Doing my best to remember more of _Michaela's Rules to Life and Fashion_, I slid on a nude heel and black blazer.

Forty minutes later I walked through the doors to SullTech, still pissed I missed my alarm. There was a good chance that now half the work I did last night would be useless. Majority of the morning was spent busting my ass to catch up, even going so far as to work through lunch, and by midafternoon we were back on track. Tom spent the day making off-handed remarks about my visitor this morning but surprisingly, kept it to himself. I had half expected barrel tons of questions from my co-workers about Braxton, but they never came. It was a relief not to be probed and prodded about what was going on, seeing as I was in the dark myself. And antsy.

When 5:30 rolled around, my stomach was fluttering. How I was supposed to hold down a meal was a mystery, but I was going to give it a shot. It was tempting to stay an extra few minutes, so I wasn't waiting around in the lobby. I had already been late once today though, not a habit I wanted to get into, so I made my way downstairs. The entire trip was spent finger combing my hair and fussing over my dress. Undoubtedly he was going to look glorious, hardly ruffled from a day running a multimillion dollar company, while I had started the day frazzled.

My mouth fell slack when I finally saw him leaning against the lobby wall. Dressed in a dark grey suit and black shirt, he looked spectacular. His hair was in its usual ruffled style, sticking out in all directions. A slight shadow on his jaw added definition to his face, lending it a hard edge. He could've sold sex to a Nun.

"Ava, you look lovely." He said stiffly, reaching for my hand.

"Thank you." I replied quietly, enjoying the soft feel of his hand.

The ride to the restaurant was quite. Again, Braxton seemed very tense. I don't know what was eating at him – it could be anything, but this evening would be very long if this was setting the tone. He was sitting behind the driver, starting out the window and brooding, effectively ignoring me. I was fidgeting on my seat, running my hands over the soft leather and picking at my finger nails. The dark tint of the window gave relative anonymity, but the SUV had an air of importance. You may not know who was inside, but you could immediately tell they were a _somebody_.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, we arrived. It was a cute little establishment. Set aside from the busier areas, it had a family vibe and looked very Italian. Braxton held my hand as we found our table, squeezing my hand before sitting down. It was a recurring thing, and a sweet one at that, but there was always an edge to it. He was holding my hand, but it always felt like more than that. Possessive. Seated at our small table, I made the mistake of looking up to his eyes. Like a vacuum, they pulled me in and it wasn't until the waitress arrived that I was about to look away.

"Welcome to La Vecchia. Here are your menu's. Can I get you something to drink?" The young girl said with a practiced smile. Braxton looked to me in question, so I smiled back at the waitress.

"A still water would be great, thanks."

"Make that two," He said, sparing a glance for the young girl who had been sending longing looks his way.

Taking her leave with a bounce, I was once again alone with Mr Tense. Waiting for him to make conversation was becoming tiresome, so I looked over the menu. I was still biting at the bit to find out what his cryptic line on the phone had been, but apparently he was in no hurry. Outings with Viv had taught me the basic ins and outs of Italian food, so I was able to distinguish a few of the plates for what they were. So many delightful choices, yet I was still tossing up between lasagna and spaghetti bolognese. Such a sucker for the classics.

"Tell me about yourself." He said, head tilted to the side. Looking up from the menu and chewing my cheek, I thought it over. It hadn't been a question. The more time I spent with Mr Sullivan, the more I was realizing he was much more a commander than an inquirer.

"What do you want to know?" The side of caution was always my ally in this game and tonight was no different.

"You grew up with Nathan."

"That's not a question."

"Why?" So, he was certainly getting straight to the point. This question, the one I hated most, was normally easy enough to avoid. Given my age, people assumed I had moved out of home. It was only those who knew Nathan and I collectively that had any reason to think differently. Braxton fell in that category.

"I was raised by my Grandparents. Nathan is only a little older than me and we grew up together, so when they died he became my guardian."

"Where were your parents?" I had tried to dodge it, but eventually this was the line it always came down to. Most people would beat around the bush a lot longer, ask less invasive questions for a while first, but not him. I'm proud of the people who raised me, but I'm not proud of why they had to raise me.

"They were really young when they had me. In between Junior High and High School. My mother's family were Catholic and disowned her for having a child out of marriage, so she ditched me and ran. My father's parents tried to help him raise me, but he couldn't handle it and OD-ed. That left my Grandparents."

"That's horrible." Braxton said, clearly aghast. This was the exact reason I hated the question. I had no need for anybody's pity or sorrow. Sure, the beginning of my life was a little rocky, but I can't remember any of it. All my childhood memories had been wonderful.

"I suppose. My Grandma and Grandpa were great people though, I was lucky."

I was graced with a momentary reprieve when the waitress returned. Just to gather my thoughts again. It's not the absence of parents that left me reeling. Discussing family reminded me of the truth I had hidden for days. What I had left didn't want me anymore. Placing my order for lasagna, I did my best to take some calming breaths. Why did this man always bring me so close to breaking down? Thankfully he seemed to pick up on my fragile state and began asking mindless questions instead. What music and movies do I like, who my friends are, and what I did in my spare time, that kind of thing.

The conversation was flowing now, and Braxton was surprising me constantly. When I finally got to ask some questions, I found out bucket loads. He also had no family, his father having died nearly eight years ago, just before his twentieth birthday, and leaving him the company. When Braxton had inherited it, Sullivan Incorporated was a small technological support company. He had spent years building it up to what it was now. That tech support company had evolved to become SullTech, where I was currently positioned. On the off chance he ever had free time, Braxton enjoyed playing music, though he assured me free time was certainly a rarity.

"Then why are you here with me?" I piped up. Another brain to mouth misfire, and my cheeks began to flame. I had seen him the past four days in a row, a remarkable amount for a man with no free time.

"I'm curious about you." The bluntness of his response caught me off guard. Dinner had been going so smoothly.

"Curious how?" I could feel the knot of insecurity beginning to tighten in my throat and my defenses shoot up.

"You are different." Shock and offense must have been clear on my face, causing the uncomfortable look on his. Clearing his throat, he continued. "I mean that as a compliment. You're... refreshing."

"Refreshing?" I repeat, still looking for the compliment.

"Yes, refreshing. It would seem I enjoy your company." He explained, confusion crushing his brows together.

"Well... uh... thank you."

We sat in an uncomfortable silence while the table was cleared. I was mulling over his supposed compliment and he appeared to be watching me do so. As far as they went, it was the strangest compliment I had received. Was I ever going to understand this man? Deciding I probably wouldn't, I shrugged it off. The mystery can continue. Having apparently understood my inner musings, Braxton smiled warmly at me when I gave decoding his words.

"I'd like you to come back to my place for a drink, if you wouldn't mind." A smug smile decorated his face, as if I was already accepting the offer.

"Drink? It's a Tuesday night." No response, just a pointed look telling me he knew what day it was. "I struggle to get out of bed for work as it is. If I drink on a work night I'm done for."

If I had assumed he would scoff and tell me one drink wouldn't hurt, I would have been made an ass. Instead a thoughtful look cross his face, followed by a smile.

"Coffee then?"

I agreed with a nod. If he was in no rush to end the evening, I wasn't either. There was just an air about him, always had been. I was insanely curious, but as we moved closer to our ride I found my nerves were beginning to rise. Did I really want to know?

Yes. I did.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

By the time the elevator dinged on Braxtons floor, I was jumping. The alert caused me to jolt even though I knew it was coming. I was past nervous and into skittish, bordering on paranoid. There was no clear cause for my behaviour. Something in the very base of my gut had me on edge. The other shoe was going to drop tonight. It was then that I realized I didn't exactly know what the first shoe was. Mentally I ran through what I already knew about Braxton. He was more appealing than water in a desert. Evasive and successful. Had shown himself to be rather demanding. Doesn't date. Looks after his drunken employees. Enjoys playing music. I was struggling to come up with much more beyond that. Really, I didn't know this man at all.

"Ava! Did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry, what?" I blushed, snapping my focus in his direction. He had his head tilted, much the same way he did when I first encountered him.

"I asked if you like sugar or milk in your coffee." A question? I'm certainly sorry I missed that.

"Both. One sugar please." Nodding, he turned back to his task.

Braxton Sullivan has a sexy back. Until this point in time, I wasn't convinced a back could be attractive, but I am now. Even clad in a suit jacket, the blades of his shoulders demanded attention. My eye balls were flicking between them and his ass. It just isn't fair. How does he have such a nice bum? I could do squats every day for the rest of my life and I would never be able to achieve a butt as glorious as his.

"Here you go." He announced, setting my coffee in front of me.

"Thank you."

Raising his mug in acknowledgement, he proceeded to lean against the counter opposite to my position at the breakfast bar. Studying me while sipping his drink. It was a push to stop myself from going beet red, or to squirm, under his watch. Finally it became to much for me.

"For a not-date, this has been awfully date like, Mr. Sullivan." I said, breaking the silence.

"I suppose it has." He replied, a little perplexed. "But I must inform you, it wont happen again."

So that's the other shoe, I guess. I'll admit to being a little shocked at the resounding disappointment radiating through me. Some where down the track I must have thought there was something more going on, but that was crushed now.

"Thank you for dinner and the coffee, Mr Sullivan." I said, getting to my feet.

It was time to make a dignified exit. I had no intention of staying or trying to convince him to change his mind. It was pointless. He had already made it clear he wasn't interested. I was stupid for telling myself otherwise.

"You're not leaving?" He demanded, coming to stand in front of me.

"I am." I replied, looking up at him. He was less than a foot from me, his scent hitting me directly. All the memories of the previous night came flooding back to threaten my resolve.

"Why?"

"You just said -"

"I said there won't be anymore dates," He said, stepping forward marginally. "That does not mean I don't want to see you."

"What does that even mean?" I snapped, my temper rising. I had a fair idea of what he meant, and it wasn't good.

"You intrigue me. I'd like to be able to get to know you... privately." He cautioned.

"No." I spat.

Leaving him standing looking shocked, I stormed around him and headed for the elevator. Cursing under my breath. Fuck buddies? Hah! I am nobodies dirty little secret, nor am I easy enough for him to just bluntly insinuate such a thing. The nerve!

"Ava!" He called.

Ignoring him, I reached for the call button. His hand intercepted my efforts and he swung me to look at him.

"Just listen for a minute."

"I am, in no way, shape, or form, going to be some dirty little secret. Forget it!" I hiss. Disappointment, rejection and outrage all swirled inside me, pinballing me to different degrees of anger.

"That isn't what I meant, Ava. Come with me." He pleaded, tugging on my hand. Refusing to move an inch, I stomped my foot.

"No. I'm not going to be just another fuck!"

It happened in a microsecond. Suddenly he had me pinned to the wall, his hands holding my wrists captive beside my head, his knees in between mine so we were flush. Every plane of muscle and inch of warmth could be felt against my own. His eyes we're holding a mixed of rage and anticipation. My insides pooled.

"You will watch how you speak to me." His voice was the shadow of a whisper as his nose ran along my cheek. "I'm not interested in _just another fuck_, as you put it. I am a wealthy man, Ava. Wealth attracts attention and I value privacy. If you come with me, I will show you why."

All I could do was nod. I couldn't trust my voice. Not because of fear or anger, but lust. If I opened my mouth, I was almost certain a moan would fall out. How mortifying. This is not the proper response to being man handled, I should be screaming! Instead, I tuck the information away for later. Much, much later. Like, maybe, never.

Trading my wrists for a single hand, he led me in the direction of his bedroom. I wasn't oblivious to the effects the idea of his bedroom was having on me at the moment. Keeping myself upright took all my concentration. I was almost panting walking behind him. For a girl whose never had sex, I was beginning to feel all kinds of wanton. What is he doing to me?

Gently he pushed me to sit on the edge of his bed before turning to his wardrobe. Sliding the door open, he gave me one last look before making his way inside. Holding my breath, I waited for him to return. What skeletons were hiding back there? Patiently I waited. Scanning my eyes across the room in the dim evening light. The giant picture window behind me shone with San Fran at night. It was beautiful. Lights reflected of the water, headlights streaming across the bridge.

"Ava, come here."

Moving at a snails pace, I made my way into the closet. It was massive, bigger than most bathrooms at least. Ridiculously expensive clothing lined the walls with shoe racks below them. He has more clothes than I do! Maybe I should consider shopping more often. A small cough directed my attention to the man in the room. He was standing next to what appeared to be a large dresser. I was struggling to see the big secret, but as I got closer it became clear.

Well fuck. That wasn't what I was expecting. I don't know exactly what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. The second draw was open fully, the dresser thicker than I had originally thought. Scattered throughout the drawer were varying sex toys. I'm not expert, but I would be willing to bet there were more in there than your basic single woman owned. Throwing me a cautious glance, Braxton lifted the top draw. It opened like a shallow chest, the top draw evidently for show.

That is when I knew, without a doubt, this was the other shoe.

"Is... Is that a riding crop?" I gulped.

He nodded, but didn't speak. There was also some kind of whip, among other things. Confused, I stared into the chest. It was a solid three minutes before realisation hit.

"Oh... Oh!"

He's into all that rough shit they plaster on day time TV! What do they call it again?

"BDSM?" I asked.

"Ava, I understand if you want to leave." His voice was bland. No emotion came through and it was enough to turn my attention to him.

"Will you explain it to me?"

"If you like," He sighed. "What do you already know?"

"Nothing." I said, hoping he would understand straight away that by nothing, I really meant I hadn't had sex.

"At all?" I nodded. "What is sex normally like for you?"

Locking my eyes on his, I tried my hardest to communicate with him without having to say it out loud. He stifled a gasp, shock etched on his beautiful face.

"You've never?"

"Nope." I squeaked.

Grabbing my hand, he led me back to the living area. Sitting next to me on one of the three massive cream couches he clenched his fists. His legs bouncing. He seemed to be having trouble with something.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

"Me?! I just... You didn't... I didn't... I just didn't think..." He scrambled, before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Ava. I just assumed you would've..."

He didn't seem fully comfortable with my virginity. Like it's presence was some how killing his brain cells.

"It's fine, Mr Sullivan. Really."

"Oh for fucks sake, Ava. After what I just showed you, you are allowed to use my first name!" He spat. He really was thrown for a loop.

"Braxton," I smiled. His name felt nice on my lips. "It seemed presumptuous to mention straight of the bat."

Turning to me, he let out a choked laugh. "You want to tell me about being presumptuous? God I'm an ass." He focused on deep breaths for a while. "Would you tell me why?"

I let out a puff of air. Why hadn't I? Twenty One and a virgin in 2011. It was almost laughable.

"I just haven't met anyone." I said with a shrug. It wasn't the entire truth, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet.

"You are so beautiful though." Immediately, I flush. Poor Braxton. This clearly wasn't how he envisioned this evening.

"Maybe I wasn't ready. I haven't been on a date in nearly two years. Rumour has it the owner of the company I work for is a real hard ass." I joke, hoping to diffuse the atmosphere a little.

What I never could have pictured was the pay off. Braxton tilted his head back in a laugh. A genuine laugh. The beauty of it put Mozart to shame.

"Tom is right. You do work too hard." He chuckled.

As his laugh died, something took its place. The air began to crackle and my heart went into overdrive. My lungs were hard pressed to keep up with its erractic rhythm. If it lasted much longer I would faint or have a heart attack. Making eye contact, Braxton lent forward, intention clear on his face. He moved slowly, allowing me an out if I wanted it, but the moment I felt his breath on my face, it was game over. Leaning into met him, I pressed my lips against his.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**So I guess you could say I'm back in the groove, ha :)**

**Thanks to all who encouraged me to keep going.**

**I'm sure you can all see where this is going, and as of next chapter the rating will be moving from T to M ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Slowly, carefully Braxton moved his lips against mine. His movements were precise yet delicate, never pushing for more. Instead the irresistable taste of him encouraged and invited, giving me control of the speed we moved, always leaving an out. My arms were aching to anchor themselves to his neck but I resisted, remembering his reaction the night before. Tilting my head, I deepened the kiss.

Smiling against my mouth, he ran his tongue along the seam of my lips. A smile of my own formed and his tongue slipped into my mouth again. It was different to the night before. Then he had just taken the kiss like it was already his. Tonight he seemed almost nervous he may push me too far.

He tasted heavenly, still, and my head began to swim. My heart stuttered as he weaved his fingers into my hair, tilting my head back. Moving to my neck, he trailed soft kisses and licks until he reached the pressure point at the based. The kisses were gently. Enough to have me panting but no where near enough at all. It was torture. My body temperature was increasing rapidly and the throbbing starting below was driving me crazy.

Guiding me to my back, he positioned himself between my legs, causing the skirt of my dress to slip to my ass. Redirecting his attentions to my mouth, he began in earnest. He never separated his lips from mine for long, as if they were his oxygen supply. As his passion grew, my control on my arms weakened. With no prior warning, they flew up, my fingers running through his hair. It was like a dream. I was gasping for the air I refused to take, least his mouth leave me for too long. My hips were moving of their own accord, knees gripped to his firm hips.

Suddenly he sat up, leaving me more than a little dazed. His smile was warm but his eyes were hungry. With a small gulp, I got to my feet. This was it. He was giving me one last chance to make an exit. He shot an anxious glance at the lift, certain I was leaving.

Taking my time, I reached behind me for the zipper to my dress. Inching it down, I kept eye contact. I wanted this and I wanted to make damn sure he knew it. Half way to down, his control slipped. In one swift movement he was off the couch, lifting me, and marching to his room. The small growl he let out as he lifted me was the final nail in the coffin. Without consideration or care I attacked his mouth. Locking my legs around his back, I did what I could to grind into him.

Reaching the base of his bed, he let me go. My entire front slid down his causing something of a gasp-moan to escape me when my crotch met his. Leaving one last peck on my lips, he reached around and finished unzipping my dress. His hands skimmed over the skin on my back, causing a shiver down my spine.

With uncertainly, I moved to unbutton his shirt. I wasn't entirely sure if this would be okay. Every time I began to feel a little more bold, I remembered his hands pinning mine. The memories caused conflict. My body convulsed at the thought, but my mind stuttered. Was this okay? Looking up, I was met by hooded eyes. He was glued to the movement of my hands. Taking a steadying breath, I unbuttoned the top one. Flicking a glance up to gauge his response, I instead saw his face watching mine. A small nod told me I was doing okay.

Permission granted, I grappled for his top like it was between me and a lifeline. I tore at his buttons, yanking the shirt from his pants in the process. Pushing it from his shoulders, I took a moment to appreciate the art below it. Sculpted, toned, but almost modest. Every line of muscle I had felt was now visible and it was delicious. I had seen it second-hand on the internet, but nothing could have prepared me for the mayhem it released within me. I needed that body on me. _Now._

Braxton pushed my dress from my shoulders and it slipped down the rest of my body. Absent mindedly I kicked it away once it hit my ankles, still focus on his chest. I don't know how long I stared, but when I looked up he was doing the exact same thing. Staring at my exposed body. The way he was looking at me was... unimaginable. My body temperature shot higher again, but something in it warmed my insides as well. His stare made me feel sexy.

Deciding I couldn't wait any longer, I unclasped my bra. My hope was it would push him into action. I desperately need action. Holding one arm over the cups, I let the other slide through the straps. Taking a deep breath, I let it fall to the floor entirely.

Gasping, he looked to my face. The question was clear: may I? A small smile played at my lips as I nodded my consent. If he didn't do something soon, I would combust. At an almost feral degree, he attacked my lips. Moving backwards, he followed my mouth as I lowered myself to the bed. Once comfortable, he trailed kisses down my neck, over my chest and to my breast.

His tongue – his wonderful tongue – danced around my nipple. Never a full lick or suck, just a constant tease. I could feel my sanity beginning to wane. Finally he pulled it into his mouth. My boobs were heavy in my core, and his movements sent shocks through my whole being. I was on the cliff on bliss, ready to swan dive into euphoria, when he stopped.

"No!" I moaned out. It was so pretty on the cliff.

I could feel the breath of his chuckle on my skin like a caress. If I was desperate before, I was down right pathetic now. Pushing my breast towards him, I prayed he'd take the hint. I could feel the loss between my legs and it was aching.

"Please," I mewed. "Pleeeeeeease!"

Taking pity on me, he began working on my other nipple. Continuing to tease me into a frenzy. I felt the bed move, but ignored it. So long as he kept going, the bed could start doing 360 degree flips for all I cared.

He began drawing circles on my hip, moving infinitesimally lower each time. I let out a moan, knowing where he was going. My hips bucked wildly, trying to make his hand move faster. It was useless. His nips and licks continued to assault my breast, while his hand moved lazily to where I needed it most. It was maddening!

Being unable to take much more, I clawed at his arm, trying to hurry its path south. When his free hand captured mine, pinning them above my head, I all but screamed. Death by prolonged orgasm. That is where this was going. Sounds I didn't recognize as my own were escaping from my throat and my hips continued to buck.

Placing his lips on mine again, he cooed. "Shhhhhhhh."

I was wild. I was ready to bite at his lips and finish myself off, but before I could form my retaliation, his fingers brush my slit. My limbs locked into place, trying to place the sensation. With building pressure, he slid his finger against my panties. I was stuck between heaven and hell. The sensation was incredible, but the wait was almost unbearable. Pressure was building within me, and I couldn't control it. He continued his journey. My panties were clinging to my skin, damp to almost an embarrassing degree.

I couldn't bring myself to care. The wetness molded them to my folds, blocking none of the friction Braxton was building. Whimpers and moans were flowing freely as the pressure continued to build. I found myself on the cliff again, hurtling towards the edge. My chest was heaving, my hips jerking wildly. Just as I was about to let go, Braxton got up.

My eyes flew open, and a growl escaped me. That was the second time he had stopped before I could finish, and I was pissed as a result. He was smiling at me, cocky and sure. It was still tempting to storm off, maybe teach him a lesson. The jingle of his belt buckle halted that train of thought. Raising myself to rest on my elbows, I watched. His shoes and socks were gone – probably while I was sulking, and he was pulling his belt out. He was moving quickly, but it was still too slow. I needed him naked and I needed it now.

He pulled off his underwear and pants in one go. Good fucking God. I could feel my eyes popping as he fully revealed himself. Whats bigger than humongous? Braxton Sullivan. Panic began to rise. How could that fit? Would he break me? Maybe I should leave. My concerns grew as he slid the condom over himself. The rubber also appeared to be straining.

Peeling my panties away, he settled himself between my legs.

"Relax Ava. It will fit." He breathed.

With one hand, he positioned himself against my opening. The other hand he used to circle a constant pressure against my clit, keeping me going. With immense care, he pushed into me, stopping when the tip was fully in. He continued his circles and leant forward to brush a kiss against my lips. My jaw was clenched and tears were leaking from my eyeballs. It hurt, but the pleasure from his ministrations was beginning to over lap the pain.

He started rocking, pushing himself in a bit further each time. Before long, the pleasure returned in force. By the time he was fully in, I was rocking against him. The fullness extended, bursting from head to toe.

"Fuck," he spat, clearly having a hard time keeping his movements slow.

It would have been fair to make him wait, as he had done for me, but I had had enough. Or needed more. Coherency was off in another land, all I knew was I needed more. Reaching for his hands, I linked our fingers and pulled them beside my head. Whispering against his lips, I told him.

"Go."

And he did. He plunged into me with such fervour I began sliding up the bed. Planting my heels in the bed, I lifted my hips to meet him. He continued barreling into me, slick and panting. Moans and pleas for I don't know what fell out of my lips. The pressure I had felt twice now but had been denied began to rise again.

The strain was clear on his face as he drilled himself inward. Letting go of one of my hands, he returned to stroke my clit. It was too much. It wasn't enough. It was everywhere. My moans were so loud, I was sure the city below could hear me. I didn't care. The pressure continued to grow, surpassing previous times. My breath flew from me and my body froze, trying to absorb everything.

"Mine," Braxton growled.

And it hit me. My legs began to cave, unable to hold me up while experiencing such an onslaught. Braxtons hands grasped my ass, holding me in place as he continued pounding. My legs shook, my core began to clench, and I was done. My whole body began to tense and release, shaking and convulsing. The continual stimulation Braxton was giving drew it out until he stilled himself.

With a shudder he reached his destination as well, holding inside me before collapsing next to me. For a few minutes we laid in silence, catching out breath. It took a while for proper thoughts to link together and even longer for my heart rate to return to normal.

I was swept up in my own thoughts, completely oblivious to anything else. Entirely relaxed. It wasn't until I felt a hand stroke my hair back that I remembered I wasn't alone. Or that I was naked. The culmination of those things left me feeling incredibly shy. I would be lying if I said I knew what it would be like, but I didn't expect an orgasm to feel so personal.

"Are you okay?" Braxton asked, anxiety in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm good." I mumbled, failing to hide my smile.

He let out a sigh and pulled me against his chest. Quite comfortable against him, I felt myself beginning to drift. I wondered if sex was like this for everyone. And if it was, how did anybody get anything done? Was I abnormal? For as long as I could remember, people had said loosing your virginity was supposed to be a traumatic and unpleasant occasion. I had enjoyed that quite a lot. I continued to muse, ready for unconsciousness to take me. Directly on the verge on sleep, reality hit me. Hard.

"Shit! What's the time? I have work tomorrow!" I rushed, flinging myself from the bed.

Oh God, there's no way I could handle being late two days in a row. I knew Tom wouldn't mind, but I did. Sleeping with the owner was no excuse for tardiness!

"Ava," He tried to soothe.

I wasn't listening. I was cursing myself. There was no shit show in hell chance I was going to be able to get away with wearing my panties home. They would have been closer to dry if you dunked them in a bucket. Did that really come from me? I could feel my face heat, but I didn't have to time to worry about it now. I needed to get home. And probably take a shower.

Hearing Braxton lift himself from the bed, I turned in time to see him disposing of the used condom. Well at least he remembered. I was so far gone safe sex wasn't even a blip on my radar. How irresponsible!

"Ava, it's 10pm. You can stay here, I'll make sure you get to work on time." He offered.

He was trying to be nice, but I was in full panic mode. Scrambling to get my bra on, I felt warm hands slide around my waist. It stopped me dead in my tracks, and for the first time tonight, insecurity had me well and truly by the balls.

"I don't have any clothes." I whispered, hugging the cups to my chest.

"We will stop by your place in the morning. Stay with me, please?" His voice was soft.

Could he been feeling as vulnerable as I was? Surely not. He had clearly had sex before. What ever it was in his tone, it caught me of guard. Turning in his arms, I lent against him.

"Okay." I mumbled into his chest.

* * *

**Authors Note:  
**

**I think it goes without saying I am nervous about this chapter. Perverted though it may be, I hope I did alright, and that you enjoyed it :P**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The Deja-Vu was strong this morning. Again I was woken with a glass of water and the news breakfast was ready. However, when I sat up to get out of bed I knew why I didn't have pants on. Images of the night before skipped through my mind leaving me smiling. Catching my expression, a smile broke on Braxtons face as well.

"None of that or neither of us will be going to work today." He told me, kissing my nose.

"Not so bad for you," I pointed out. "But I could get fired."

The thought halted me in my tracks. Last night had been in complete disregard of the non-fraternization policy. Did I really put my job on the rocks for a guy? Sure, Braxton was unlikely to fire me himself, but the rumour mill at SullTech was active. If anyone found out, I was going to get in the shit.

"Fucks sake," I sighed to myself, sliding on my dress.

"Are you alright?"

"Last night was a violation of my contract."

I felt a little hopeless. I didn't regret last night one bit, but I loved my job. Why did Braxton have to own where I work? Why did I have to get into bed with him? That must go above and beyond sleeping with the boss.

"Your job is safe, Ava." He replied, completely sure. "Eat. I'm going to shower and then we will leave."

Thankfully, this breakfast was nowhere near as hearty as the one on Sunday. Dinner had been huge and with the nerves filling my stomach I was sure I wasn't going to fit much. I managed a few forkfuls of egg, then set to moving them around my plate absent-mindedly. Braxtons home really was something else. So beautiful. So much for just one person. Though I imagine he would have a maid or two, on top of his driver. Maybe even security. They could even be watching me now. Oh god... Could they have seen what happened last night?

Set on ignoring the idea of secret voyeurs, I hummed to myself while I waited for Mr. Man to reappear. It seemed I was pointedly ignoring a fair bit these days. Like how grotty I was feeling without a shower. Or how well I slept cuddled up in Braxton's bed. Or how, if I did not tell Michaela about this immediately, she would kill me when she found out. More sighs. When did life get so annoying?

"Ready?" Braxton called, edging towards the elevator. We were leaving now, it seemed.

The closer we got to work, the more anxious I became. Not because of my illicit night, but because I just didn't know what was going to happen from here. I had mulled over asking him while I showered, but I was embarrassed to be one of _those girls_. The ones who became demanding after sex. How I wished I could just tuck last night under my belt and carry on as usual.

That wasn't how it was going to be for me. Even as I got ready for work I was mindful that Braxton was sitting in my bedroom. Extra care was put into pinning back my hair. More effort making sure my eyeliner was even. I was ashamed to admit I was planning my outfit in the shower so I could breeze out and make it seem like I just threw on the closest thing and was ready.

Braxton had assumed I would continue my ride with him after my shower. I hadn't needed to mention my absence of car or need to call a cab, because I was going with him. He had given me an odd look when I announced I was ready, before struggling and leading me out. Quietly I was just grateful Stevie was already out.

It was in the car that the tension finally broke. Grasping my hand, he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.

"You are allowed to ask questions, Ava."

"Oh, thank fuck." I sighed, my shoulders slumping. My act was exhausting.

Silence filled the space, and I adjusted my dress.

"I... I don't know what to ask." I admitted sheepishly.

"We'll start with the obvious: don't tell Tom." He began.

"So it's a secret." I continued with best attempt at bravado.

"No," He was cautious. "Just... private."

"If I don't tell Mickle, she will kill me." I informed him, adding. "Michaela. My best friend."

"You are welcome to tell your friends, Ava. I don't want to label anything yet. Let's just get to know each other first, okay?"

"Okay." I say, smiling.

For the rest of the day I wrestled with telling my friend what had happened. The night had seemed so personal and I wasn't sure how ready I was to debunk it with Michaela. I could have kept it to myself, but I know she would be hurt that I didn't trust her. By lunch time I was riddled with guilt. I should tell her. 'This is what girlfriends are for!' She would say. Steeling myself, I pulled out my phone.

* * *

**Ava:**

Girls night?

**Mickle R:**

On a Weds? What's the dealio girl?

**Ava:**

I have something to tell you.

**Mickle R:**

Is it juicy?

**Ava:**

Maybe...

**Mickle R:**

I'll bring the ice cream!

* * *

Laughing to myself, I logged off and climbed carefully up from my desk. I was in desperate need of caffination. Tom probably was too, so I stuck my head in his office.

"Lunch break, boss. I'm getting coffee, you want?"

He was on the phone. Crap – my bad. Tom rarely cared about silly things like being professional though, so with a dramatic wave of his arms and massive smile, he blew a kiss my way.

"Ahh kiddo, cross my heart, I would die without you!" He gushed.

"You're such an egg," I laughed as I left.

I was feeling significantly better with coffee on the horizon. That an my decision to break the news. Embracing my good mood, I set to scrolling the web for funny pictures while I waited. With the ding of the elevator, I made sure to check who was on before I entered. It had been a daily thing recently – checking the lift. The last thing I wanted was to accidently bump into Vivienne. Nathan would be nice, however. I owed him a piece of my mind. As it was, the carriage was clear. Bouncing on, I returned my focus to my phone. It vibrated with a text.

* * *

**Mickle R:**

Mint or double fudge?

**Ava:**

Both...?

**Mickle R:**

Genius!

* * *

I ordered the coffees from my favorite cafe. It was an extra block away, but it was well worth the trip. The barista on at the lunch shift was gifted. Sitting while our coffees were made, I picked at the muffin I had just brought. Typically I was more of a shove-it-towards-your-face-and-hope-it-fits kinda girl, but it seemed inappropriate given my current surroundings.

While pressing to get our presentation ready in the month before, I would come here and sit by the window when I needed to clear my head. There was something relaxing about watching the world carry on, even when it felt like it was resting on your shoulders. The bustle of every working man and woman in the city trying to rush in a lunch break without derailing their lives always reminded me that life would carry on. And I found that comforting. Progress – I like it.

Coffees in hand, I made my way back to the office. I knew I hadn't been gone long, but Sully Tower was big. Trying to get in or out during the beginning or end of lunch was impossible. It was much less stressful to pop out briefly right in the middle, when everyone was as far away as they could manage.

Had I foreseen who would have employed the same method, I would've risked the wait. I must have thought of Viv a little to hard earlier because there she was, disembarking the elevator as if she owned it. Oh come on! I was too far in to make a subtle retreat now. And I shouldn't have to. I have every right to be here – I work here!

The way her face contorted gave away that she had spotted me. Glorious. Coming to a stand still in front of me, she stared down her nose.

"I hear your leaching off a new man now." She sneered, opening her mouth to continue the insults. Before she could get any more out, I scoffed.

"Fuck off, Vivienne."

Now was not the time for a domestic. Or would it be an ex-domestic, seeing as I wasn't living with her anymore? I didn't know or care. I just wanted to get the fuck away from her. Walking a wide berth around her, I kept moving to the lifts, hoping beyond hope one would be here soon.

"You're nothing but a gold digging little slut, Ava!" She yelled. "A sick, twisted, man hungry little whore. Getting rid of you was the best thing we ever did!"

Feeling my face flame, I completely ignored the sound of an arriving cart.

"I reckon Nathan might disagree when he sees sense and dumped you haggly old ass!" I spat back.

"So you can go crawling back?" She laughed. "He never wanted you! Nobody wanted you. Your mother ran, your father killed himself! You even pushed your grandparents into an early grave! Do everyone a favor and disappear, Ava."

I could feel my eyes burning as I fought the tears. How could she? And in such a public place. It was my fault, really. One night after one too many drinks I had confided my secret fear to her. That it was my fault any one who ever cared about me died. I loaded the gun she was shooting, and I had no defense.

"Enough!" Rang a voice from behind. I didn't need to look to know who it was. "You will not speak to anybody that way in my building. Nathan, please escort your wife off my property."

Frozen as I had been, I saw my uncle scurry past to latch on to his wife. She was glaring at me, clearly blaming me for her embarrassment. Nathan shot me an apologetic glance before pulling her from the lobby.

It didn't realize I was shaking until a hand pulled the coffee from my own. With his other arm around my waist, Braxton led me to one of the couches. I couldn't tell you if I was angry, ashamed, or upset. I had no clue. Pulling a napkin from the carry case of the coffee, Braxton wiped the coffee from my hands. Left behind were ugly red splotches. Maybe getting the coffee extra hot was a bad idea.

He didn't speak. Instead he took my purse from me, collect the coffee, and guided me to the elevators again. I couldn't say anything. If I spoke, I would break. Not just from the episode in the lobby, but the realisation that my family had well and truly rejected me. My brain was absent, keeping my heart at bay, so I didn't notice that Braxton had keyed in my floor. I didn't notice the other people in the cart. I didn't notice the tears falling down my face.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

There is an old theory that reality is different for every person. That life isn't much more than a figment of your imagination and dying is waking up from a vivid dream. I'd never really paid much mind to it. In the past I hadn't had much reason to hope my life wasn't real. Sure, it had been a little untraditional in parts, but always good. I had been grateful for my family.

What do you do when you are raised to believe family is the secret to happiness, then your family slams the door in your face? All the love, loyalty, and acceptance that once coated your world and lessened the harsh blows of life get stripped away like old wallpaper? I couldn't tell you. Thinking about it too much hurts. The answer isn't going to be any better.

I still remember my Grandma. Not in big chunks – she died when I was seven. What I can remember always makes me smile. In my favorite memory, I was sitting in the back yard playing dolls while she gardened. My dolls were having an argument and I was getting carried away, so I didn't notice when she sat next to me. I tried to hide the dolls, embarrassed by my silly game. She told me my imagination was my best friend and asked to join me. I miss my Grandma.

Six years later I lost my Grandpa – or Papa. Papa was a gentle man. He was wrecked by the death of his oldest son, then his wife. On the nights when he drank a little too much, he would tell me how much he could see of his lost family in me. _'Your my lifeline, honey.' _or_ 'Be careful sweetie, I need you yet,'_. He would say. If I asked about my parents, he would tell me how my dad was a good boy, just like Nathan. _'You and Nate need to look after each other.'_. I miss my Papa too.

All over the world there are people who testify that being without family isn't so bad. Maybe I can be one of those people one day. But today is not that day.

* * *

"Avie,"

The couch dipped next to me. I must be home. How did I get home, again? Vaguely I can remember stopping in my office and seeing Tom looking concerned but that's all. Michaela looks so scared, staring at me like I'm broken. I don't want to be broken. My heart may be shattered, but that doesn't mean I have to be. Vivienne isn't winning.

"I'm alright." I tell her with a decisive nod. "I just want to take a shower, get out of my work clothes and girls night is on."

"You got it. Braxton Sullivan is in your room." Her voice was low, skepticism clear on her face.

Braxton. Right. Him first, then shower, then Michaela. Goal setting is good for progress, I reminded myself.

"Hey, thanks for bringing me home."

Leaning in the door way, I watch him as he scanned my room before looking at me.

"I want to look after you." He explained, waving me to come towards him.

More than willing to do so, I ambled over to his spot on the bed, where he sat me on his lap. Resting my head against his collar I took a deep breath. His hands rubbed circles into my back, much like he did on Saturday night.

"You're doing a great job."

"Nathan mentioned you had moved out in passing. I had no idea it was due to bad blood."

I flinched. I wasn't ready to talk about it now.

"If my wife were psychotic I wouldn't mention it either. Can we talk about something else please?"

"As much as I'd love to sit here with you, I have meetings this afternoon that I can't rescheduled."

With a sigh I managed to pry myself off him. If it were up to me I would have spent the afternoon licking my wounds in that exact spot, but that's what you get when your seat is running a successful company. I shouldn't complain. If it weren't for his success I would be unemployed.

As I began rummaging for my favorite sweats, I felt his eyes on me. Heating the back of my neck and cheeks. Much too nervous to turn around, I began searching for a reliable hoodie for the evening. I was feeling fragile this afternoon – raw. Whether it would be worst if he was looking with concern, pity, or lust, I didn't know. It was easier to play it safe.

"Ava," He sighed, his arm turning me to face him. "Are you going to be okay?"

The way he said it was pointed. He was referring to more than todays events. In a normal situation this would have been cause enough for a blush to creep on my cheeks, but proper responses seemed to be avoiding me.

"I already am, Braxton."

He continued to stare. Or maybe evaluate was a better word to describe the way he was looking at me. Conjuring a fake tooth-filled smile and a shrug of the shoulders, I passed. After soft kiss on the forehead and a promise to call, he left.

By my logic, I had about two minutes to get in the shower before Michaela would demand some kind of answer. She would watch him leave, stalk him through the peep hole and then the window, before she came for me. Undoubtedly she would have a full report and analysis of Braxton based on body language already done, citing her three psych classes for reference. I wouldn't be surprised if after my shower she had a presentation ready to accompany her lecture. She's going to have a fit when I tell her what happened last night.

Showering didn't take long. It was my second one in a day, but the soothing water was something I needed. The heat of it warmed the chill in my bones. After ten minutes I was done and dressed in my comfort clothes, ready to blob and talk smack with my best friend.

* * *

"Are you telling me that you swiped your V-card with _BRAXTON FUCKING SULLIVAN?!_" She all but screeched.

I had expected to get told off for not ringing her immediately after. Maybe a giggle or two. I hadn't expect this almost-hysteria being displayed. When I came out of the bathroom, Michaela was bouncing. For some reason I cut her off and _'Mickle, I had sex with Braxton last night'_ kind of... fell out of my mouth. She had stilled so rapidly I thought she may have gone into shock. Assuming she was processing, I lead her to the couch and hugged my knees while I waited.

"We went out for dinner last night and it just happened." I explained.

"Dinner?! I didn't know you were seeing each other, let alone sleeping together!" As I said. Hysteria.

"That's 'cause we aren't doing either, Mick."

"So you aren't dating or having sex?"

"Nope."

"But you went on a date and had sex?"

"Yup."

"I'm confused."

The rest of the night went the way I thought it would after that. We had a uncomfortably in-depth discussion about the previous night, followed by a debriefing of Braxtons body language and what it meant. I still remembered how poor a friend I had been to her a while back, so I indulged every tidbit she came up with. She wanted to set me up a bunch of outfits, so I let her. It was a rare treat to find a friend like my Mickle and I owed it to her to return the favor. She loved this stuff.

We ate ice cream for dinner and potato chips for dessert. We ragged out Vivienne till we were blue in the face and sung along to every stupid song on the radio we could find. We painted our nails and put horribly colour face masks on. When Stevie got home we dedicated half an hour to convincing him it would be beneficial to him if we plucked his eyebrows. Then we laughed until we cried at his reaction to plucking.

Stevie pulled out his guitar and we sang some more. We ate too much popcorn and watched a scary movie. We played board games and cards. We did everything we could think of, and when I fell into bed later that night it was hard not to smile. Friends like mine really are rare to find.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

In the following two weeks my relationships with Michaela and Stevie became even stronger. I knew I was clinging to them and perhaps relying on them too much, but they never batted an eye. Stevie and I had begun sharing breakfasts and Michaela had joined us for dinner when she could.

While we were eating one night, Stevie asked if I would consider moving in on a more permanent basis. I had readily agreed. Staying with Stevie had been easy. He was tidy and respectful of the work week, so I was looking forward to being his official flat mate. We were set to add my name to the lease tomorrow, followed by shopping for all things house.

Michaela had all but buckled over when she realized I had yet to indulge in retail therapy. She was personally offended I had not used my change of circumstances as an excuse for a new wardrobe and had added it to the weekend agenda. I needed a new room, new clothes, new hair, and new practically everything else as far as she was concerned.

"Reinventing yourself is, like, the only perk to being miserable Ava! We must shop!" She had declared in a pleading tone.

I had agreed, but there was one issue with her theory. I'm not miserable.

Sure, there were times when I missed the twins. If I was tired and spent too long thinking of my Uncle I would feel a little nauseous, but I wasn't depressed. I was coping better than even I had expected. There was only one thing that was really keeping me up at night.

Braxton never called. I had tried to reason that maybe he didn't have my phone number, but it was a weak excuse at best. If he wanted to call, he would have gotten it off the SullTech database. I hadn't seen him since that day he dropped me home, either. Not a single sighting at the tower or word that he existed. It was as if he had fallen of the planet.

Except he hadn't. He was all over the internet, going to events and continuing to make splashes in the business world. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hurt by his actions. Stupidly, I had really believed he would call, that he actually wanted us to get to know each other. I ate up his little spiel about being 'private' and not a secret. I had believed him all the way to bed and back again. How pathetic.

So now I saw two options from where I was sitting. I could take the more tempting route and get bitter about it. I'm sure if I was so inclined it would be easy to find a tabloid willing to buy my story and call it revenge. Or I could stick my chin out and say 'Fuck it'. If I was nothing to him, so be it. He can be nothing to me too. I was working on that one now and it was harder than I cared to admit. He had been something. Even if it was little or imaginary, he had always been _something_.

And that was why I agreed to go shopping. Because, at least to me, it was like a giant middle finger to Braxton Sullivan. I was embracing the cliché.

Spirits had been gleefully high at the office today. The coming long weekend was cause enough for more chatter than work to be acceptable. Productivity was always low on a Friday afternoon, but I'm sure today it was not even a factor. The hour following lunch had been spent ensuring there would be no issues over the weekend. Tom had given up pushing for work after that.

People had begun trickling out of the office at 3.00, and now at 4.00 Tom and I were the only ones left. Sitting on his desk, we were playing 'Go fish' and discussing the following weeks appointments. My boss had been appalled when he got the full story of what happened in the lobby two weeks ago. Within moments he had been on the phone making sure Viv was barred from entering the tower.

Next week was going to be almost entirely out of office for Tom and I. He had meetings scattered all over the city that he wanted me to attend. It was normal for me to follow him to meetings when they were with a big client or a new one, but next week I was going with him to all of them. He had claimed it was because he was just lazy and wanted me to pick up on all the details, but I was certain he was just as worried about leaving me alone as my two friends were.

Eventually 4.50 rolled around so we started packing up. Just as we were about to walk out of the door, my phone rang. This was why we had stayed until 5.00. The phones were set to automatically switch to after hours – no manual option. Rushing over, I cursed under my breath. We had been so close. Tom hung back and waited. Being the boss it would look poorly if he wasn't here. It wasn't uncommon for the Head Office to ring around at the end of the day.

"SullTech offices, Ava speaking."

"Hi Ava. This is Carol, Mr. Sullivan's personal assistant." Her voice was husky, very sexy, and very impatient.

"Hello Carol. How can I help?" I answered cooly.

I was doing my best to stay unphased, reminding myself of the proverbial middle finger I was pulling. It didn't change the way my stomach dropped or how immediately I became nervous and shaky. Grabbing a pen and paper, I waited for instruction.

"Mr. Sullivan needs to see Mr. Knight next week. The sooner the better. How is Tuesday morning around 10.00am?" She said curtly.

"Give me a moment, please." Grabbing Tom's planner, I skimmed to Tuesday morning with a roll of my eyes. "How long is the meeting expected to be?"

The phone rustled, before going silent. I would assume she was asking her boss what he thought. Her boss. Braxton. Middle finger, Ava, middle finger. When she returned, background noise alerted me to the possibility I was on speaker. Fabulous.

"It shouldn't take much more than twenty minutes." She offered.

It was my turn to get direction from the boss, so with the phone pressed into my shoulder I turned to Tom.

"Boss man, reckon we could hammer out the prep for the FST presentation in twenty mins? Mr. Sullivan wants you for twenty at 10 on Tuesday."

"With a PA like you, anything is possible. He's the boss, kiddo, fit him in."

Scoffing, I returned to the phone. It was set and if I couldn't come up with an excuse to get out of the meeting, Tom would want me there. When it came to the big bosses there was no room for error, and to him that meant I needed to be there.

When I arrived home Michaela was already there. I knew she would be, but I didn't know she was bringing dinner. The familiar scent of Indian called my name from the kitchen. These were the little things my friends were doing for me and I was so grateful my heart began to swell. She was leaning against a counter in the kitchen, plating up everyone's food. She greeted me with a beer as she continued artfully arranging the rice.

Now that this place was my home, I began paying more attention. I had always liked Stevie's apartment. It was clean and modern but not sparse. The open plan living area and big windows worked beautifully with the light wall colorings to reflect the light. Considering it had only been lived in by a single man, it was well decorated. Stevie's ex-girlfriend had been a painter and he had the artwork to show for it.

There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms. My half of the rooms had been kept in check, not wanting to take advantage of his kindness. After accepting Stevie's offer, I had received a hard word about making my space my own. My room had a bed and a side table, creating the need for shopping. Michaela wasn't quiet about her excitement.

"Obviously you'll want your room to be coordinated, but not matching." She mused, handing me my plate. "We'll have to come up with a color scheme. Oh! Purple would be awesome."

"Purple?" Stevie scoffed, looking a little disturbed at the girly color.

"Purple goes great with green, Stevie. Her eyes would always pop!" Michaela gushed.

"I like purple." I offered, hoping to end the discussion before it could begin.

It was decided then that my room would be decorated with varying shades of purple and a few splashes of green. All because of my eyes. Briefly I wondered if my eyes were why Braxton never called. The girls he was seen with usually had blue eyes. Just as quickly as I thought it, I pushed it away. I would not obsess.

Michaela left a few hours later, warning that I had better be ready for her to pick me up at 10am tomorrow. She had a full day planned and she was determined to get through it all so we could decorate on Sunday and relax on Monday. I had my reservations about whether I would be able to relax at all this weekend but still I hadn't told her about the meeting on Tuesday. I was ashamed of my reaction.

With Michaela gone and the kitchen tidied, I retired to my room. It was only 9.45 and the youth in me said it was still to early for bed on a Friday. Instead I wiggled into my favorite too-big superhero tee-shirt and enjoyed the freedom of no pants and the internet.

* * *

Despite my reservations, when I woke up on Tuesday morning I felt recharged. The plain cream of my room had been vamped up to an almost unbelievable degree. On Sunday morning all it boasted was a large bed pushed against the wall, a white side table, a half filled wardrobe and a bathroom door. The change was astounding.

The bed now sat directly below the window facing the city and was decorated with a beautiful purple and white comforter set. On either side sat a couple of white wood tables with lilac lamps. I now had a dresser that matched the tables, with a large mirror hung above. Michaela had managed to find a set of pictures in grayscale with purple focus points. I had to give the girl credit – the room was beautiful.

All the sentimental objects I had taken from my room at Nathan and Viv's now held a spot of pride in the room, as well as a variety of beauty products Michaela insisted I needed. My wardrobe and dresser were both full. My hair was void of split ends and shone with natural looking highlights. My bank account may have been drained, but it had been worth it.

Provided I didn't think too hard about the meeting I was about to head into, it was easy to feel carefree. I had the two best friends I could ever ask for, a great job with a fantastic boss, and an apartment I could call home. Things were going swimmingly. Whenever I felt in danger of succumbing to the nerves and fear of seeing Braxton, I remembered these things.

I felt good, and I knew I looked good. The highlights in my hair made it look healthy and my skin look a shade more tanned. The shift dress I wore flattered my curves and the stockings underneath drew attention to my legs. Those legs looked much longer in the black pumps I was sporting and pushed up my bum. All of this was about me, of course. Nothing to do with showing Braxton what he was missing.

Braxton. I felt my breath catch as we followed Carol in to his office. All my concentration went on not thinking about the night we spent together. Avoiding looking at him, I sat in one of the two seats at the back of the room. I assumed one was for myself, as Carol walked directly to the other. Taking care to keep myself busy, I pulled out Tom's planner and a note pad. I switched off the bluetooth headset in my ear, directing the calls on both mine and Tom's phone to voicemail. I checked it all over twice before I looked up.

The whole time I could feel his eyes on me. I knew he was looking at me, but I had done what I could to ignore it. Now, looking back at him, it was almost impossible not to gasp or blush. Almost impossible. Collecting myself, I swung my hair over one shoulder and crossed my legs, patiently waiting.

I would've sworn when my dress hitched as I crossed my legs, I heard Braxton let out an infinitesimal gasp.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**

**I'm considering doing a _very_ small chapter in Braxton's POV regarding this encounter.**

**I will probably write it anyway, but I have mixed feels about posting it during the story.**

**If I don't post it now, I will probably post a collection of tidbits in his POV at the end of the story.**

**Let me know what you think, yeah? :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Let me start by saying: I have been at my job for two years. In that two years, I have sat through hundreds of meetings, maybe even more. Not one of them had been as pointless as this. Braxton was asking Tom for a run down of how SullTech was running. I didn't need to be here for this. I didn't have anything to offer on this topic, nor was I needed for notes.

What I had taken note of was how flawless Braxton looked. He hadn't done anything different, he was just an exceptionally attractive man. Or perhaps it was the setting that accentuated his looks. Today was like being back stage or behind the curtain. I got to see him in his natural enviroment. His office was sleek, black and white. No personal artifacts at all. The walls were decorated with artful pictures of his company houses around the world. His desk a tidy clutter of all things business.

Checking my watch, I was horrified to see that it had only been five minutes. Oh come on! This was hell, a business meeting that never ended. Tom was giving a run through of what products were at which stage, and what concepts were being considered. Resigned to being surplus, I zoned out. For exactly seven wonderful minutes, I didn't worry about thinking or cleaning up after Tom. I just let my mind wander and go where it wanted. Provided it didn't stray to Nathan or Braxton.

My attention snapped back when I heard Braxton begin questioning my boss about staff.

"This is confidential, of course." He said, pointedly looking at me. Tom followed his stare and quirked a finger in a joke warning.

"I got it: private." I dug, arms raised in surrender.

It was irresponsible to let personal life affect me while working, but in my defense, it had slipped out of my mouth before I had realized it happened. I didn't regret it. The smirk on Braxtons face wasn't enough to phase me. In a single sentence I had managed to emphasize my disdain and prove a point. After a short conversation, Tom announced we needed to get going and I let out a sigh of relief. Besides the one sentence I spoke, I had been able to get through the meeting fairly well.

"I'd like a word with your assistant, if you wouldn't mind."

So close. I had been so fucking close to having my ass out of that door. Tom shot me a confused look, before shrugging his shoulders. I stood dead in my spot as he and Carol walked out of the door and it closed. A small part of me had hoped Carol would stay too, but I had bothered harboring it. Not knowing what to say, I turned to face him, doing my best to seethe impatience.

"You impress me, Ava."

My only response was to raise my eyebrows. What's he playing at?

"I'd like to see you again. Some time soon."

Read translation: _let's bang_. Before I could stop it, a disbelieving laugh erupted from me.

"You find that funny?"

"I find your approach laughable." I corrected.

"And why is that?"

"We have sex. You claim you want to get to know each other 'privately', never call, then ask to see me with my boss standing outside of the room." I could feel the rage brewing, so I let out a slow breath before continuing. "What's worse is that I've already voiced my concern about breaking the rules. You know I love my job."

"I had my reasons." He said as if that was a satisfactory explanation for it all.

"Your reasons can kiss my ass."

Lightening fast, he reached out and pinned both my hands behind my back. Just as quickly, the night I had been supressing flung to the forefront of my mind, playing in vivid detail. The feeling of his body pressed up against me and his hands holding me prisoner had me spinning.

"You should really take better care, Ava." His nose ran along my jaw up to my ear, giving it a nibble before leaning back. "I'll pick you up at 7.00 tomorrow and you will stay at my place."

"If I don't want to?" I squeaked a challenge.

"You want to. I can feel it. I have so much to teach you."

Leaning in, he kissed me. Tension radiated from him, pouring into my mouth and crumbling any resolve I had pretended I had.

* * *

By 6.00 the next night I was ready. That was generous, too. All the anxiety swirling around had extended to not being ready on time. What if he turned up early? I had packed my over night bag the night before. I would never admit to being so excited I packed early, but it was true. That 'over night bag' had actually been my bag at school – a worn out slouchy leather shoulder bag. If over night trips were going to be a normal thing, I would need a new one.

There had been a bit of a frenzy while I packed. No one had ever accused me of over-packing, but it was true this time. Do I take pajamas? I doubted I would need them, but what if I did. Not taking them could be a disaster. Do I own any nice pajamas? I searched and searched my drawers, looking for a pair that weren't three sizes too big or covered with a ridiculous pattern, only to come up empty handed. I liked room while I slept, but I cursed it now.

In the end I had decided it wasn't worth the heart attack and stuffed my favorite plaid ones in the bag. They were quickly followed with underwear and a thick tank, and then more underwear. My face burned as I remembered what happened to the ones I was wearing last time. More underwear. Then the stress of finding something for work on Thursday. Dressing for work was easy, I could do it in my sleep, and I'm sure I had a couple of times. It was selecting items that wouldn't crease in a bag that caused a problem.

Eventually I found some slacks and a white blouse that paired easily with the black jacket I was wearing now. It was tempting to doll myself up, but I didn't succumb. Basic skinnies and a jumper was going to have to do. I reasoned that this was out of my comfort zone, so I should at least dress comfortably. Something like that, anyway.

With myself and my shit at the ready, I slumped on to the couch and turned to the TV. Stevie was out being Stevie somewhere so the place was quiet. I had cautiously told him I wouldn't be home tonight, to which he looked mildly suspicious. Informing he would keep his phone on loud, he told me to call if I needed him. He didn't ask any questions. Living with Stevie was great.

The buzzer sounded just before 7.00. Glancing out the window I saw the SUV, so I let him in and opened the door. When he waltz in, I was slamming my feet into my boots. He didn't say anything. No greeting or questions about my day, he just waited. When I had collected everything, he lead me out of the door. Switching on the alarm and locking the door, I followed him down to the car.

The silence was thick during the drive. Braxton wasn't in a hurry to say much. He never was. A true man of few words. As it became clear conversation wasn't on the agenda, the driver turned up the radio. I sung along quietly as the city flew past, allowing the comfort of a known song to soothe my nerves. It was a band I listened to in school, and I laughed as I remembered playing air guitar to it with Michaela.

"I didn't know you could sing." Braxton interrupted.

"That's because I can't. Not really. It's just a fun way to pass time." I explained as we turned into his building.

"Are you hungry?"

"Uh... yes?"

It had come out as a question. His quick nod told me it was the answer he wanted. He hadn't out right said anything, but I got the impression Braxton was pretty strict on food. My Papa had been much the same. Three square meals a day was important to him. He would have approved of Braxtons similar inclination. In the relative privacy of his building, he clasped my hand as we walked.

He directed me to set my bag down in his room and when I returned, two plates were set at the island. Padding over, I took residence on what I have now dubbed 'my chair'. The food looked lovely, a fettuccine of some kind. Probably Alfredo. Braxton placed a couple of glasses and got comfortable next to me.

"Just water?"

"Just water, but a glass of wine wouldn't hurt, you know." He joked. Braxton knows how to joke?

"Probably not, no. I'm just not a huge fan of alcohol."

"Bad experience?"

"You could say that." He looked at me curiously, waiting for me to expand. "A story for another time, maybe." Was all I could say.

There were very few people who knew the full extent of why I disliked alcohol so strongly and I would like it to stay that way. For some unknown reason, I trusted Braxton with my body. He had only ever done things to benefit it – including the food thing. I may even be willing to trust him with tidbits from my mind. But my heart, feelings, and secrets? Well, he's already shown how easily they can be ignored. I think I'll keep them to myself.

"For a girl who talks a lot, you don't say much." He mused.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Another time, maybe."

"No one could accuse you of being an open book, either." I retorted.

Sensing my frustration, he changed the topic and we ate dinner in easy conversation. It was surreal how easy it was to talk to Braxton, provided the topic didn't get personal on either end. We could discuss current affairs and music with such ease you'd think we'd known each other for years. As the CEO façade slipped off, his whole personality changed.

Braxton had the sharpest wit I'd ever stumbled across. Impossibly intelligent and quite perceptive. Sometimes he would smirk to himself as I spoke and I couldn't help but feel like he was seeing right through me. Sitting on the couch, he had his sock-covered feet up on the coffee table, crossed at the ankle. I was snuggled into the corner holding my knees before he pulled my legs to sit on his lap.

The TV was on, but no one was paying it any attention. I was scrolling through social media on my phone while he read a bunch of papers he had pulled from his briefcase. It was very comfortable. That is, until he slapped down his papers and turned to face me.

"I want to talk to you about something."

"Go ahead." I told him. Still in a haze of comfort, I didn't pick up on the agitation he was holding.

"When we went to dinner I told you I don't date." He began.

"You did." I confirmed, pulling my knees back towards me.

"There is a specific reason for that,"

"And that is?" Though I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I was fairly sure he isn't gay, but that doesn't limit much.

"Control."

I sat there dumbly for a few minutes, waiting for the explanation that never came.

"As in _'I don't date because I feel like it's out of my control'_, or..."

"I don't date because I'm not interesting in standard relationships." He finished.

"So hypothetically, if we were to be in a relationship you'd want me to do whatever you say?"

"And follow the rules."

"There are rules?" I groaned.

"Yes. To be followed without question."

I didn't know what to say, so I nodded. All of it could be manageable, if I wanted to. But without question? I don't know if I could handle that.

"And if – in this hypothetical situation – I was to question something, what would happen?" Would he just end it, was what I really wanted to know.

"There would be... punishment."

And it all clicked into place. This was all to do with the BDSM stuff he had shown me. I hadn't forgotten, but it hadn't seem hugely important till now. I berated myself internally. Of course it was important. You didn't show someone something on the first date if it didn't have a role. Punishment. I was willing to bet that punishment meant pain. You don't tickle people with whips, after all.

Sitting there, I wondered why I was actually thinking about this and not freaking out. Weighing whether or not I would be able to follow the rules to a satisfactory degree. Shouldn't I be outraged that there were rules at all? I thought about the first morning I was here. He had told me what to do then, and not only had I done it, I had _wanted_ to do it. I thought back to the multiple times he had pinned my hands. briefly I had wondered why I wasn't mad about being man handled, but I had dropped it easily.

"I see." Was all I could say, because for the first time, it felt like I could see, if only a little.

"You're not fleeing out of my door." He suggested surprise, but he looked pleased as punch.

"Fleeing," I scoffed. "So are these rules hypothetical or is there a hard copy I can look at?"

"There is," Caution. "But it's more than -"

"Hand it over, Brax."

Hand out, I waited. If there was a set of rules to follow, I doubted I'd be allowed to interrupt him or demand anything again, so I did it while I could. With one last nervous glance, he walked towards what I assumed was his home office. This is a big deal to him, I deduced. He's nervous about showing me this 'Rules to being with Braxton' list he had compiled. Admittedly, I would be too. When he came back, he handed me a small stack of paper.

* * *

**Terms of Reference**

1. The accepting party shall henceforth be referred to as "The Submissive".

2. This contract and the contents within are meant solely to create and the appropriate mindset and are in no way legally binding.

**1.0.0 Roles**

1.1.0 The Submissive

The Submissive agrees to submit the Dominant fully and without reservation. The Submissive understands that there is no time or situation in which she can willfully disobey the Dominant, with the exception of 1.0.1. The Submissive understands that upon signing this contract, her body becomes property of the Dominant to use as he sees fit, within the guidelines defined herein, including punishment.

1.1.1 Submissive Rights

1. The Submissive holds the right to refuse any command that may be in violation of any existing laws.

2. The Submissive holds the right to refuse any command that may cause extreme or permanent distress to herself or another.

3. The Submissive holds the right to refuse any command that may cause permanent bodily harm (see).

4. The Submissive holds the right to refuse any command that may effect her job.

5. The Submissive holds the right to a discussion with the Dominant regarding any strong morals that have the potential to be effected.

1.2.0 The Dominant

The Dominant accepts the Submissive as his own fully and without reservation. The Dominant agrees to care for the well-being and safety of the Submissive for as long as he owns her. The Dominant also accepts the responsibility of treating the Submissive fairly, using the Submissive, training the Submissive, and punishing the Submissive.

**2.0.0 Punishment**

The Submissive agrees to accept any punishment deemed fit by the Dominant, whether earned or not.

2.0.1 Terms of Punishment

Punishment is of the Submissive is subject to the terms below to ensure the physical and mental health of the Submissive. The Submissive has the right to discuss these terms and alter or add to them if she sees fit. The terms of Punishment are a set of rules to ensure no lasting damage and no act be misconstrued as abuse. The terms are as follows:

1. No acts including blood play or surgical instruments. If blood is drawn punishment must stop immediately.

2. No breath control or acts resulting in loss of conciousness.

3. No fire play.

4. No act that may result in internal bleeding.

5. No with holding of necessary items such as: water or food, etc.

**3.0.0 Permanent Bodily Damage**

As the Dominant has accepted the body of the Submissive as his own, he accepts the responsibility of protecting it from any long standing or permanent damage. Should the Submissive be subject to any permanent damage she has the right to terminate this contract immediately. Permanent Bodily Damage is defined as follows:

1. Damage involving the loss of mobility or function, including broken bones.

2. Permanent marks on the skin, including: scars, burns, punctures, or tattoos.

3. Any hair loss.

4. Any disease received at the fault of the Dominant, including sexually transmitted diseases.

5. Death.

**4.0.0 Privacy**

It is understood by both the Dominant and the Submissive that all evidence of the submission with be kept in complete privacy, unless agreed upon by both parties. Should either party violate this cause, the contract may be terminated immediately.

**5.0.0 Other**

5.0.1 The Submissive

The Submissive acknowledges her body is no longer her own, therefore she will not engage in any sexual or submissive activity with anyone other than the Dominant, including masturbation.

5.0.2 The Dominant

The Dominant acknowledges the trust of the Submissive, therefore will not loan her to any other Dominant without her consent.

**6.0.0 Alteration or Termination of Contract**

6.0.1 Alternation of Contract

This contract may not be altered without consent of both parties. Any alterations must be agreed in writing, and signed by both the Dominant and the Submissive.

6.0.2 Termination of Contract

This contract may be terminated by the Submissive if any of the conditions outline herein are violated. The Dominant retains the right to to terminate the contract at any time.

**7.0.0 Rules**

7.0.1 The Submissive

The Submissive with obey the Dominant in all things without question or hesitation.

7.0.2 The Dominant

The Dominant will not ask the Submissive to violate any of her rights or breach the Terms of Punishment

**The Submissive**

**Name in print:**

**Signature:**

**Date:**

**The Dominant**

**Name in print:**

**Signature:**

**Date:**

* * *

"There is only one rule?" I whispered.

"Because it covers it all." Braxton whispered back.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

I should run. Far and fast. Get away as quick as possible.

But I don't want to. Sitting on Braxtons couch with him looking at me they way he is, I don't want to move an inch. He's given me a way to be with him. It may not be traditional, and it may be quick, but it's the only way he's comfortable with. Am I so stuck in the 'norm' that I'm willing to pass that up?

"You would look after me?" I checked.

"I want to." He said softly.

Maybe I'm crazy, but I believe him. What's more, the idea of being at his mercy does funny things to my tummy. I can't help feeling like this is a big step really early. Though, we did have sex on our first not-date. And it probably would have been worse if he waited too long and then I ran for the hills. By the look on his face, I'd say that had happened before.

"You're killing me, Ava."

"I'm sorry." I said, shaking my head. "I've never done anything like this before."

"You're scared." He provided.

I nodded. "What if I agree and then the first time, I end up being a total whimp and hating it?"

He thought on it for a while and I did the same. My gut told me this could go two ways. Either I would decline and spend my whole life wondering what would have happened if I said yes, or I could accept and be completely horrified. Except if I said no, that was it. If I said yes, I always had the option to say no later. Something huge was hanging in the balance here, I just didn't know what.

"We could try it tonight? If you wanted. Then you could think on it until the weekend."

"Two days to think?"

"I doubt I could wait much longer." He apologized.

Silly how that made me smile and my tummy flutter. In a round about way, it was really sweet.

"We'll try it tonight, then."

"Come with me."

Putting my hand in his, I let him lead me to the bedroom. I had no idea what to expect, so I let any expectations go and decided I would go with the flow. Until a point. If I felt like it was going too far, I was out. I couldn't define 'too far' at the moment, but I figured I would know it when I saw it. Braxton positioned me so I was lying on the bed. My legs were hanging over the edge and I doubted it looked sexy, but then he crawled up next to me.

"We need to discuss a few things first." He looked so excited, it was hard not to smile.

"Oh?"

"You need to think of a word. An uncommon one, or one that makes you feel safe." He instructed.

"Uhh... Blanket?"

"Blankets make you feel safe?"

"Who doesn't feel safe in a blanket?"

"Alright then, blanket is your safe word. If you ever want to stop, just say blanket." He explained

"Couldn't I just say stop?"

"There could be times when you say stop, but don't actually want it to stop. This way I know for sure."

"Got it."

"Also, it would be good for me to know what kind of pain tolerance you have. Were you disciplined? Broken bones?"

"I was in a car accident once. And I've had appendicitis."

"And how would you rate them on a pain scale?"

"Lets call my appendix rupturing a 10, and say the accident was between a 7 and a 8."

"When we first had sex?"

"Um," I blushed. "Maybe like a 3."

"Okay," He smiled.

Facing me, he ran a finger down the side of my face. Gently he moved so he was hovering over me, our body's just touching. Sliding his hand behind my neck, he yanked my face to his for a demanding kiss. Our lips mashed together, wrestling against each other. The sudden movement had been a surprise that had give his tongue easy access. He delivered small strokes and little flicks in my mouth before he swung us around.

All of a sudden, I was on top and disoriented. Lying back, his hands roamed under my jumper, itching it higher as his hands moved up. In another flash, he was sitting upright. Grabbing his shoulders to steady myself, I enjoyed the feeling of his hands on my skin. He shrugged his shoulders to indicate he wanted my arms up and as soon as I obliged, my top was gone and my bra quickly followed.

He latched on to my nipple, rolling the other with a free hand and the other kept me securely against him. Before long I was writhing on his lap, gasps and moans falling from my mouth as easily as air. The natural rock of my hips was causing delicious friction against my jeans and I was again wondering why I had waited so long. Carefully he picked my up and returned me to a lying position on my back.

At a diagonal like I was, he had to stand with one knee on the bed to unfasten my jeans. He all but ripped them off, my socks following suit. In only my panties, I waited for vulnerability to hit me as I watched his fully clothed form retreated to his closet. It showed in a small wave, but was outweighed by the anticipation settling in my stomach.

He returned, carrying a couple of strips of black fabric. Nerves hit a bit harder when he walked around the bed towards my head instead of returning to where he had been before, but I swallowed them down. I felt safe, despite where this could be going.

"Kneel." He ordered.

I was reacting before I could process his meaning. Scrambling, I flipped myself over and knelt in front of him. He let out a happy chuckle and shook his head as he grabbed my wrists. Holding them against each other in demonstration, he let go and waited to see what I did. It was a little confusing that I didn't think before I knew I was meant to leave them there. Even I knew I had a tendency to question beyond the realms of normality, but this was like second nature. He tied the thick chunk of silk around my wrists, binding them together and placing them back in my lap.

"Remember, if you want it to stop just say blanket."

As he brought the other piece of silk up to my face, I closed my eyes. Once the blindfold was secure, he sat next to me. I got to experience first hand how loosing your sight immediately improved your other senses. I could feel his hand before he touched me, smell him from further away, and hear the ruffle of the bed below him. With one hand wrapped around my back and the other my front, he lowered my down so I was resting on his knee. I didn't have to be a rocket scientist to see where this was going.

"If you move, I will restrain you further." He promised.

For a few minutes he left me resting there, either trying to relax me or build the anticipation. One was working better than the other. It was becoming a struggle to stay quiet like I was sure he wanted. Just as I was about to crack, his hand connected with my ass. My whole body shot forward but he had expected it. His knees moved with me, guiding me back. There was a sting that followed the slap, but it was bearable.

Then his hand rang out against my other cheek, and I shot forward again. He repositioned me again, and continued with the spanking. The pain was building, but it was the wait that was killer. Sometimes they came immediately, other times I was waiting with held breath for almost a minute. By the sixth hit on my first cheek, it was impossible to keep quiet. A strangled whimper came from my throat, and then another as he followed suit on the other side. The second sound was more of a moan than a cry, and I felt the cheeks on my face change color to match my bottom.

With no warning, he thrust me back to the bed. The jingle of his belt distracted my from my embarrassment, and I was once again stuck in a state of not-knowing. Eternity stretched out around me and then snapped back when I felt a dip of the bed. Carefully he pulled down my panties, taking the time to blow gently and alert me to the wetness below. My mind was struggling to glue the spanking to the obvious arousal together, unable to comprehend that they were connected. All that could be heard in the room was my panting. I stayed where I was for so long with no word that I was almost certain he had left me here.

A gentle stroke of his thumb against my clit and my body rocked, but then it was gone. Braxton moved my hands above my head, resting his forearms against my upper arms as he rocked his shaft against my opening.

"Keep your arms there," He whispered.

Then he plunged into me. Using my thighs as leverage he continued at a blinding pace. Pushing himself as hard as he was pulling me. My mind was beginning to turn to jelly, unable to process anything more than the feeling of him deep inside me. Reality appeared briefly as he flipped me on my stomach and pulled me on to my knees.

"Oh god" I groaned.

So much deeper. Too deep. Too much. He continued to push himself, his grunts and moans becoming more frequent. One hand held my hips steady as one moved to work my little center. With barely any pressure and quick movements, it was enough to push me over the edge. Once again my body seized up and erupted. Quakes rocked through me and I clenched around him as he raced to his end.

Sanity returned a bit later, and I found when I opened my eyes the room came into focus. I was collapsed on my front, my arms outstretched but free. The bits of silk we haphazardly thrown to the end of the bed, but Braxton was no where to be seen. With considerable effort, I pulled my arms beneath me so I could look around the room. Where did he run off to?

Deciding to go find him, or maybe water, I rolled over and met with a protest from my butt. Jumping at the pain, I moved to the standing mirror in the room. Turning, I gasped. There were actual hand prints on my ass.

"What the fuck," I blew out.

It hadn't hurt that much. Not enough for me to expect a burning bum and hand prints after. It was a glorious red color. I guessed I should be mad, but again I was surprised. My biggest issue was that I had a full day of meetings to sit through tomorrow and if that wasn't gone, it was going to be uncomfortable.

"Are you okay?" Braxton asked as he walked out of the bathroom.

"I have meetings all day tomorrow." I explained. "I hadn't thought it was that hard."

He met me halfway, holding out a robe matching the one he was already wearing. Once on, he lead me to the kitchen and handed me a glass of water.

"I didn't hold back. I didn't need to. As usual, you impressed me." He was all but beaming at me.

"My ass might disagree, but I... I enjoyed it." I confessed, studying the floor.

"You and your ass did spectacularly." He assured, placing a soft kiss on my head.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Mr Knight is currently in a meeting, sir. Is there something I can do to help?" I said with fake cheer, followed by a genuine smile when Braxton strutted into the office. "I understand, sir. Would you like to give me the details and Mr Knight will call you back A-S-A-P."

Rolling my eyes, I jotted down the information being given to me over the phone. Sitting with one leg folded under me to cushion my bum, I spotted Braxtons satisfied smile as he came to stand in front of my desk. Poking my tongue out, I did my best not to laugh at the man on the phone.

"No sir. I can assure you that SullTech has never developed or manufactured spy technology." I waited. "Okay then. We will get right on that. Happy to help. Enjoy your weekend."

Dropping the phone, I finished scribbling down a note to Tom and added it to the pile. Braxton had said he would pick me up from Friday, and because I didn't know if he meant from the office or lobby, I had indicated that there was a chance of a Friday afternoon drop in. I had claimed to hear it through the PA grapevine, and now all my colleagues were staring at the man in front of my desk in awe.

"Hello Mr. Sullivan," I said with a smirk. "Mr Knight should be out of his meeting in a few minutes. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Carry on.".

With an arm filled with filing, I indicated that he was free to use my chair. The office was filled with tension, just a result of his presence, so once I had finish filing I did my best to soothe everyone. As I walked around, people were throwing hushed questions, concerned about the 'Big Boss' hanging out at my desk. Eventually, I got annoyed. Stomping over to Braxton, I asked, loudly.

"Mr. Sullivan, are you here to fire someone?"

"No." Was all he said, brows raised at my strange question.

Turning around, I waved my arms. "Carry on, folks!" I declared. I continued my parade around the office, checking for memos for Tom or any red flags hiding out. The reception girls were practically gagging at Braxton and how I had spoken to him. Promising it wasn't bad and I hadn't just gotten myself fired, I moved back to my computer.

He made to move to stand, but I said he was fine. Crouched in front of my computer I started with the normal email read through and meeting planning. I could feel him behind me, but I pressed on, humming all the while. Every now and again I would curse someone for their last minute requests or take a deep breath as I replied to a trying email. Fielding phone calls, and faxes. My boss was a busy man and the activity was constant. I was grateful for the load stopping me from focusing on the man behind me or what he accomplished last time he was _behind_ me.

"Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable sitting?" He checked, leaning towards me. The cheeky prick!

"I'm positive I'm more comfortable where I am." I replied using as sweet a voice as I could muster.

Not long after, Tom emerged from his office. Walking his guest to the lift, he shook hands before returning to check for updates. Once my desk was my own again, I gingerly placed myself back in my chair. Yesterday had been hell. It had been impossible to get comfortable, and Tom had caught me wincing a couple of times. I had brushed it off, saying I had slipped. Today was better, it only hurt mildly when I sat down and if I didn't move on my chair too much, I was fine.

On Wednesday night we had cuddled – cuddled – before bed. I had made him promise he wasn't trying to trick me by being extra nice tonight, if once I signed it wouldn't be anything like this. I had made him promise so much that every time I opened my mouth, he would huff out that he wasn't tricking me. We had discussed a little more of his rules, so I had a better idea of what I would be getting in to. A lot of them weren't unreasonable, the same kind of rules a parent might give their child. Get enough sleep, don't skip work, don't drink, do drugs, or smoke, eat properly, exercise, and all the rest. There were a few that were a bit more... odd. No bra when it was just he and I. No pants when it was just he and I – only skirts or dresses. He likes dresses, says I should wear them more.

The more we talked, the more I began to see that it really was just a control thing. I mean yes – he enjoyed having the right to punish me if he saw fit, but he wasn't interested in humiliating me or treating me like a dog. I was pretty sure I could give it a go. Why not? He said I could leave at anytime, all he wanted was for me to try. When I got home last night, I had done some research. A tidbit of Google had left me with a hearty dose of questions to throw at him this evening.

"Ava!" Jone hissed, rushing to my desk. "I can't believe you spoke to Braxton Sullivan like that!"

"Like what?"

"So casually! Are you two friends? I know your Uncle works with him."

I gapped at her, unsure of what I should say. My confusion increased as Lisa and a couple of the development team members crowded around. A twitch of Tom's door caused me to panic. Oh crap.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. He works with my Uncle." I winced. I sounded entirely unconvincing, so I started again. "Piss off you nosey bastards." I laughed, hoping Tom would decide now was a good time to send everyone home.

"You heard her, piss off home." Tom boomed.

The crowd dissipated and I sunk back in my chair, whining when my ass rubbed. As with lunch, the end of day elevator was hell, so I took my time finishing up. Braxton was still talking to Tom, using it as an excuse to wait for me. It was a bit ridiculous, he had insisted on picking me up this morning when I had a perfectly functional car, but I figured now was the time to start getting used to it.

"You can get lost too, kiddo. We've talked about working late on Fridays and you're making me look bad." Tom winked.

The time between getting into the lift at work and the one at Braxtons place had bled together. I couldn't tell you what the time was, or even what I had packed when we stopped off at my place. Braxton had been respectful of my thoughts. He probably knew what was taking up my time – it had occupied all of my thoughts for two days. I had summed up my issue with the idea into one word: Commitment. If I agreed, I was fully committing myself to Braxton and the myriad of things that came along with him. So sitting in my seat at the breakfast bar, I began.

"I would assume these kind of relationships require a lot of trust."

"They do," He answered, a little shocked.

"So if I were to tell you something, I could be sure you wouldn't repeat it or hold it against me?" My stomach was unhappy with this conversation. I thought I may be sick, and I was shaking a little. Braxton nodded. "I'm afraid of this relationship you want, it's consuming. You would become judge and jury of my life. What if I get hurt?" I finished in a whisper.

"You're afraid of the punishment? It didn't seem to bother you – we could go easy." He offered in a rush.

Shaking my head, I blew out some air. "It's not physical pain I am afraid of. What if down the track you decide you don't want me anymore, but I've come to depend on you? I've lost so many already." Small tears were trickling down my cheek as I waited for his disgust.

Sliding of his bar stool, he turned my seat to him. With a gentle thumb he wiped my tear and pulled me to his chest. "I struggle to picture a time when I won't want you, Ava. If anything, you would leave me before I left you."

Fisting my hands in his shirt I let a few shallow tears fall. "I have issues."

"Don't we all?" Kissing my head, he resumed his dinner. I tried to eat the contents of my plate, but my confession had robbed me of my appetite. Excusing myself, I dashed to the bathroom.

The wall between myself and my insecurities was weakening at an alarming rate. I hadn't mentioned how Braxtons two week absence had upset me. How it had added weight to Viv's accusations. How after only a few encounters, Braxton colored all my thoughts. It was too pathetic to recognize that I had blamed myself for it. I needed be stronger if this was what one conversation could do to me.

Splashing some water on the back of my neck, I focused on taking deep breaths. The familiar guilt lodged in my throat, and my heart throbbed. Fighting it, I refused to loose my footing. Staring at the mirror, I did what Nathan had always told me. With each breath, I let out the name of a person I had lost.

"Ava?" Braxton called, but I ignored him. I needed to finish this. "Ava, I'm coming in." He pushed through the door, but I maintained eye contact with myself. He looked on with concern as I moved through my list, but it was working. It always worked.

"... Nathan … Imogen … Emelia"

"What's going on? Are you alright?"

My cheeks flushed, being caught in what probably looked like an insane ritual. Nodding, I returned my focus to him. He looked worried, but I just chuckled a little.

"I told you – issues." Grabbing his hand, I pulled him away from the scene of my almost meltdown.

On the journey back to the living area, I had something of an epiphany. This contract – it took the guess work out of the relationship. I would know where I stood at all times. I could relax because he would tell me what he wanted, and if I was unsure I could ask and he would be honest. It was the honesty that won me over. I stopped and turned, suddenly enough that Braxton nearly walked into me.

"I want to sign."

He didn't respond, instead taking the lead and continuing to the sofa. Sitting down, he pulled me on to his lap and rubbed small circles on my back. "I don't think now is a good time for you to make this decision."

"Oh." I said, rejection burning through me.

"As much as I want you to, you were just a wreck in my bathroom, Ava. It would be selfish of me to let you sign now."

"I was always going to sign. I just wanted to clarify a few things first." I defended quietly.

"And have you?"

"Pretty much. Oh! Do I have to call you Master?" I had resolved that my other questions were all minor details. I had no fears for my safety, just my heart.

Braxton laughed his musical laugh. "No, you don't have to call me Master. I'd like you to refer to me as 'Sir' in the bedroom and Mr. Sullivan in public, but otherwise call me what you like."

"So if I called you an ass-"

"-watch it." He interrupted, and I joined in on his laughter. "Be mine for this weekend, and you can decide if you want to sign on Sunday."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I like ideas - love em. So if you have any, please feel free to let me know :)**

**Hope you like it.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Okay," I had said. I was surprised to see how much logistics went it to establishing such a relationship. We didn't go over everything – just what was vital for the weekend. If, or when, I signed, we would go through everything. Braxton said he would be quite intense this weekend. More so than he would usually, but he wanted me to know what I was getting into. The rules for the weekend were pretty simple. Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't make eye contact without express permission. I was only allowed to wear dresses and had to go bra-less. I must eat three meals a day. Most importantly: do what I'm told.

At that point I had voiced my concern about not being able to refrain from asking questions, explaining my brain-to-mouth-filter sometimes malfunctioned. Provided I tried, he would be understanding. Punishment would happen, he warned, but if I ever wanted him to stop I just had to use the safe word. The trail run would end at 6.30 on Sunday night. Any attempt to end it before hand would be ignored, unless either of us used the 'safe-sentence' we had come up with for the weekend.

Now I was lying in bed. It was earlier than I would have liked, but Braxton had decided it was late enough. This evening had been nice, if I were honest. A little strange. The last time I was outright told what to do or when to do would have been when my Papa was alive. Nathan had believed I needed to learn to look after my wellbeing, so allowed me to set my own rules. Or so he said, but I think he had no idea how to tell a 13 year old girl what to do.

On my side, I was looking at San Fransisco at night. The view was astounding. Twinkling lights reflected in the bay, headlights flew over the bridge. It looked like a movie. Between my bed sentence and lack of speaking, I had been thinking. Too much thinking about nothing in particular because Nathan hurt too much, but even I was sick of thinking about Braxton. It was tempting to dash out and get my iPod, but I didn't think it was allowed. Huffing, I rolled to my back.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Jesus! You scared – I'm sorry. I am trying, but it's just not happening." I correct myself, followed by internal congrats. Smooth recovery, Avie.

"Come here." He ordered. So I moved to stand in front of him like we had discussed: a foot away with my head bowed. Slowly, so I knew what he was doing, he swept me up and carried me to the bathroom. He directed me to turn the shower on. While it steamed the room, he began to undress. One of the perks of no eye contact was the constant ability to check him out. Braxton was still breath taking, whether in a crumpled suit at the end of the day or butt naked, and certainly in between. Once free of his clothes he removed mine. I wasn't wearing much, just a top and some panties.

Without words, he guided us into the shower. My back to the shower head and my front facing him, he tilted my head back to wet my hair. Turning me around, he pulled a shampoo from the rack and massaged it into my scalp. When he was finished, he turned me around again and massaged it out. Grabbing a bottle of body wash, he lathered up his hands and began on my body. It felt heavenly. All the places he touched turned to jello, relaxing against his slight pressure. He worked from my neck, all the way to my feet before turning me around again and repeating the process.

I was in a kind of days when he finished. Relaxed into oblivion. When he handed me the body wash, it took a few seconds for me to realize why. Soaping up my own hands, I rubbed them against his shoulders. I was powerless to resist the shudder that wracked me as I felt his muscle under my hands. I repaid to him what he had done to me, massaging his entire body, then back up again. He wasn't making a move to act on his very large erection, so I didn't either. I finished by rubbing the shampoo into his unruly hair. I had to tip-toe to reach, and in my relax state was finding it difficult to balance. A near disaster formed when my legs wobbled under me, causing Braxtons hands to fly to my waist. I rinsed him off, thoroughly enjoying gliding my hands over his wet body, and shut off the water.

Barely dried off, I was lifted off my feet again and carried to bed. He tucked me up against him, my head resting on his chest, and ran his fingers over my back. A smile broke across my face, and he must have felt it against his chest. He let out a chuckle and held me tighter.

When I woke up the next morning, I was sprawled on my stomach. The light was pouring in, causing my eyes to water. I let out a groan and pulled the pillow over my eyes. "So fucking bright." I grumbled to myself, twisting and turning to get comfortable. The bed shook, and I remembered I wasn't alone. As a matter of fact, I was in Braxton Sullivans bed. For the fourth time. I was almost giddy! And then I remember I wasn't supposed to speak unless spoken too. Uh oh. With ultimate precision, I raised the pillow enough to peek across the room. He was sitting against the headboard, a newspaper resting in his lap.

"Good morning." He offered. "Time for breakfast."

I fought – hard – to keep myself from complaining. Eating first thing had never been a strength of mine, but I knew it was coming. Having not thought much of it, I just threw on some panties and another tee-shirt, and I soon came to regret. A kind looking blonde woman was in the kitchen fussing over the stove and brewing coffee. In my panic I hid behind Braxton as if he would some how be able to protect me from the stranger.

"What is it?" He asked over his shoulder.

"I didn't know you had house staff!" I whisper-yelled. "Can I change quickly, please?"

He had barely finished his nod before I was running for the bedroom. I flew to my bag, throwing my jeans behind me after a longing glance, and zeroed in on the first dress I could find. It was a pale pink sundress and didn't leave much to the imagination, but it was better than just a tee-shirt. Piling my hair on top of my head, I started the morning again. Braxton smiled when he saw my dress and patted his chair. I rushed to sit by him, praying all the while that my nipples behaved.

"Ava this is Mary, my house keeper. Mary this is Ava Huxley." He introduced. It didn't escape my notice that he hadn't given me a title of some kind. Perhaps he didn't know what to call it either.

"Hi," My voice come out an octive higher than usual. I was feeling very shy. I just didn't realize there were other people here.

"Good morning, Ava. Would you like coffee?" She said with a pleasant tone. She seems lovely.

"Please." I gushed.

Not long after I was presented with a artfully organize plate of bacon and eggs and a second cup of coffee. I tried my hardest to toss back the entire plate, but my stomach just wasn't having it. I did manage to swing a third cup of coffee though. There was an edge to Braxton for the remainder of the morning that I couldn't work out. Maybe I had pissed him off. Maybe somebody else had pissed him off. Whatever it was, I was sure the punishment he had warned me of was happening today.

I didn't know when, so I just carried on as best I could. I had been ditched in favor of his home office and I needed a way to entertain myself. Pulling out my trusty iPod, I decided I would take a look around. There were many doors and hallways leading to the unknown in the space-station that was Braxtons home, so I went exploring.

A plethora of discovers were made. Mary had her own wing, which I wandered into by accident. She patiently explained the apartment layout to me, advising that there was a wing dedicated to security. Downstairs held a laundry and upstairs there was a gym along with a library, games room, and a couple more spare rooms. I hadn't realize this place had more than one floor, but if there was a gym I should bring my trainers next time.

The main floor was home to a formal dinning room, in addition to the table in the living area. There was an entertainment room I dog-eared for later, along with Braxtons office, bedroom, and more spare rooms. I laughed at myself for all the times I had concerned Nathan and Viv's house bigger than needed. You could fit it in this apartment twice. If being left to my own devices was going to be common, I was going to need to bring more devices. My laptop would have been ideal at this time, I mused as I munched on lunch. Without it, I settled for lying on the giant couch in the living area and continuing my musical listening. Braxton would pop up sooner or later.

I was drifting as I hummed along, my feet dancing. The music was heavier than usual pickings and I was using it to prepare myself for what was going to happen next. It was a gut feeling made stronger by the knowledge that it _would_ be happening over sometime this weekend. I was torn between wanting him to go easy on me and wanting him to let rip. If he demonstrated the worst, I would know what to expect, but there was always concern that the worst could be too bad. As he came into my line of sight, a darkness in his eye, I remembered my opinion wasn't wanted.

"Come." He ordered as I removed the buds from my ears.

I got to my feet and put the iPod down on the couch. Here we go. Apprehension grew heavy and thick as I followed him to his bedroom. I wondered if he would tell me my offense, or if it was irrelevant. For all the good that happened last night, I knew there would have to be bad. My only wish was that the good would outweigh the bad. Perhaps if last time was anything to go by, the bad wouldn't really be that bad.

At the threshold of the room I felt my throat lodge. Realization that I had no idea what to expect took hold and my heart began to race. Scanning the room, I looked for evidence of what could happen and was floored by what I saw. This was the first time I had looked at the room in any detail during daylight. They were subtle, but they were definitely there. Had they always been? The little hooks at the top of each poster of the bed gleamed in the sunlight. Not that I had thought about it much, but I was beginning to see the difficulty of indulging in habits such as these without a little DIY.

Assuming that at the base of the bed was where it was going to go down, I made my way over. A little greasing couldn't hurt, right? If I was certain it was what he wanted, I probably would have removed my dress as well. Standing with my head bowed, I waited.

What the fuck am I doing? Did I seriously just _WILLING WALK OVER TO WHERE I ASSUMED I WAS GOING TO PUNISHED!?_ There were so many things wrong with that, yet I didn't move. A part of me – the small part I squashed – voiced that maybe I wanted the pain. I had never search for pain, but then I had never let it stand in my way either. I had always been more inclined to push through the pain then go around it. The contract said 'eagerly and without hesitation' I told myself, deciding that was a good enough reason.

"What do we have here?" Braxton taunted as he walked out of his closet. "Waiting for me, are you?"

"Yes, sir." I couldn't see him with my head down, but I didn't dare move it now. I didn't know what he had brought out with him, so I still had no idea what to expect.

"Take your dress off."

In a well practised move, I swept the dress off and continued to wait. His legs came into view and I felt a leather cuff being fastened around one wrist, then the other. He spun me round so I was facing the bed and began connecting the cuffs on my wrists to the hooks, but I didn't pay much mind to it. Sitting on the bed, clear as day, was a black flogger.

With my arms suspended, I felt sweat break out on the back of my neck. I had a little give in my restraints. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't causing discomfort either. He guided my legs so they were shoulder length apart, and started pinching and pulling at my nipples. He nibbled at my neck, which moved to the side on it's own. I hadn't been told otherwise, so I kept my head bowed as I accepted his pleasures. My stomach dropped through the floor when he left me to pick up the flogger.

"Do you remember your safe word?"

I nodded, untrusting of my voice, even though I knew he wanted a proper response. Walking behind me, he tugged my head back by my hair. Running his nose along my jaw, I felt it slacken.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes, sir."

And then I waited. And I waited some more. Flicking between tensing up and forcing myself to relax. I knew if I was relaxed, my body would handle it better. However, my body didn't seem to care. It was anxious. Suddenly, a loud crack sounded and a burning pain seared my lower back. Oh holy fuckballs.

CRACK! It sounded again. Not in the same place but still close. Tears sprung to my eyes and I focused on working through the pain. If it was too much I could end it, I remembered.

CRACK! I cried out, my breathing shallowing. Biting down on my lip, I tried to quell my sobs.

CRACK! My body shook with the pressure of keeping myself upright.

CRACK! Numbness struck me.

CRACK! A thud echoed as the flogger dropped to the ground.

Braxton stood behind me. I could feel the heat of him against the heat from my back. Reaching around, he toyed a nipple in his hand, his other finger sliding beneath my panties and rocking against my nub. The pain of my back increased the sensitivity of every nerve in my body. He slid a finger into my opening, and a second one shortly after.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," I moaned.

Ripping off my panties, he slammed his length into me, meeting no protest. Almost immediately grunts and gasps were calling, and I knew he was as turn on as I was. The force of his thrusts were lifting me off the ground, but I didn't care. Fireworks were coloring the blackness behind my lids, as he went and went. Barely skimming a finger over my core, I went up in flames. I screamed out, milking him as I went, bringing him with me.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Sorry, this note is going to be a bit long.**

**I've left a few Author's notes around lately, but it's because writing this story as been a constant battle. Confession: I'm uploading as I write. In hindsight it has been a big mistake. I keep facing road blocks and hiccups, because when I published this it was with no real clear indicator where I wanted it to go. This morning I went through and read my story back and I saw thousands of places where just a simple edit could have made it better.**

**Do not fret (those who could potentially fret), I am not giving up on this story. I have uploaded this chapter as something of a filler. My intention is to go through and fix up this story. Originally I was going to wait until I had finished it and call this the first draft, but with no clear direction it's becoming impossible to write. In these months I have become oddly attached to these characters and in turn want to do them justice.**

**So it is possible there will not be a new chapter for a bit, but there will be one eventually. Should you think it's taking too long, feel free to hit me up. I'm lazy and a good nag always helps :)**

**Keep an eye out, because my hope is to reload the chapters as I go through. There is every chance they will be reorganized and potentially grouped together. **

**We'll call this a temporary hiatus while I sort out my shit. I will return!**

**As ever, I hope you enjoyed this,**

** J x**


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